#how the fuck will i handle that epilogue

[enlighten3d]

chapter 503 of orv has emotionally damaged me. i am so not ready for the epilogue, holy shit.

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Me reading the description of episode 30: oh, that's fine! that's not so bad! i can deal with that!

Me after listening to episode 30:

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[yojeongin]

it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles. 

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them. 

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving. 

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh. 

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang. 

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout. 

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance. 

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.  

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself. 

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him. 

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work. 

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone. 

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed. 

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee. 

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle. 

“Lunch with a special friend?” 

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation. 

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?” 

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there. 

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true. 

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd. 

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes. 

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right? 

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on. 

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake. 

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’ 

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his. 

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife. 

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section. 

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters. 

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up. 

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. 

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.” 

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do. 

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that. 

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember. 

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect. 

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?” 

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight. 

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine. 

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you. 

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck. 

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically. 

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you. 

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them. 

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again. 

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while. 

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”  

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab. 

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity. 

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?” 

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained. 

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?” 

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you. 

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with. 

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either. 

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

 ‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat. 

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace. 

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way. 

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes. 

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich. 

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so. 

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability. 

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator. 

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.” 

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat. 

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain. 

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…” 

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face. 

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?” 

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo. 

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood. 

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses. 

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be? 

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault.  You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals. 

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed. 

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain. 

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down. 

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly. 

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

join yojeongin’s taglist to be up to date with future work!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @seungjiseyo @theskzvibe @wonyofanclub @lovingvoidgoatee

[nysscientia]

okay but Wyll is like. a prodigy, actually. and I want to talk about that more

like he is a folk hero for a reason. it's not just because he's so nice to people. he is also an incredible adventurer.

when you meet him in the Grove, he is on a level with you—but dialogue makes it clear that's because the tadpole fucked with his capabilities. if you have him around and hear his little interparty exchanges and reactive lines, he talks about things he's done as the Blade of Frontiers, and they include wrestling a giant one-on-one, and fighting a dragon. by himself.

he fought a dragon by himself!!

like (spoilers for end of game), even when you fight a dragon in the finale, you're not doing it ALONE. you have 3 other party members and as many allies as you care to summon. WYLL WAS ALONE IN THE WOODS WITH WHATEVER SUPPLIES HE COULD SCRAPE TOGETHER AS A SOLO ADVENTURER. AND HE FOUGHT A DRAGON.

by all accounts, I think it's reasonable to guess that before the tadpole, he was more powerful than the level 12 cap that's built into the game. and sure, he's a warlock drawing power from a bond, but most D&D lore I've encountered build in the idea that warlocks need a certain amount of skill and prowess to handle the power offered to them by their patron—there's a reason warlocks and clerics still level up, rather than just shooting to the top of the ladder. PLUS, he had to know how to use that power effectively.

and then!! (spoilers for epilogue) if he does the Avernus version of his ending, he's become a ranger within the 6 months since you've last seen him. and not like, he took a level or two in ranger and he's working his way up to it. he tells you about devils he's killed that are on par with the dangers y'all faced in your adventures—and he's doing this either with only Karlach for company, or possibly even by himself (??? I've only ever had him go with Karlach, I can't stand it). so. he is ALSO now one of the most powerful RANGERS in the realms. IN 6 MONTHS.

which makes sense! he wouldn't lose all his adventuring knowledge and skills just because the pact is ended! but to master an entirely new discipline, magic and all, in such a short time??

WYLL RAVENGARD HERO OF THE REALMS. WYLL RAVENGARD GENIUS OF ADVENTURE. WYLL RAVENGARD CAN DO ANYTHING HE SETS HIS MIND TO

[spacebarbarianweird]

OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.

^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered

A Person to Hold

Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.

"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.

You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat. 

A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?

No.

None of that.

You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.

"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."

"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"

You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind. 

"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."

He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.

He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.

Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded. 

He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.

And he has you.

Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.

You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place. 

You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.

Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.

But now he has you.

To hold, to kiss, to talk. 

To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.

How could he become so happy?

“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.

How come he has you?

You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.

“Let’s go to the tent.”

“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”

Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.

You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.

In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.

He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket. 

You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.

Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.

Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.

"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer

“Hm?”

“Thank you for finding me."

You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”

He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.

“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.” 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[hazelfoureyes]

The SafeWord is RadioApple (a tidbit epilogue to part 3)

@readergirlstuff

You rested your cheek on the bar, hangover in full effect but the cool wood was calming the headache.

“Sooo, who wears the pants in this triangle of horrors.” Angel leaned back against the bar, watching Lucifer and Alastor glare at each other from separate armchairs.

“Now that’s a dumb question.” Husk shook his head.

“Okay if it’s so obvious then you tell me.”

Husk put his hands up defensively, “Not stupid because it’s obvious, but because only an idiot would piss off the cruelest overlord and the king of hell with one sentence.”

“The king is always going to come out on top.” Luci smiled directly at Alastor.

“Funny, you spent your night on your back.” Alastor rose his newspaper to block out the view of Luci.

“Who am I to deny one of my people the chance to serve their majesty?”

Alastor cackled, wiping tears from his eyes, “Serve? You were literally begging for my-“

“YOU ASKED ME TO!” Horns fully grown, on his feet.

“You sounded like you meant it.” Alastor’s body grew to twice his size, antlers hitting the bar’s overhang as static cut in and out of his voice.

“Enough! Shh. Quiet.” You pulled a napkin over your head to block out the bright lights. “I need you both to shut the fuck up for like, 5 minutes.”

Both men stilled, returning to their seats. Lucifer scrolled on his phone, sheepish. Alastor returned to his paper.

Angel tapped the bar, “Not so obvious, was it, whiskers.”

“Damn.” Husk shook his head.

“Kiss kiss love you sorry,” you offered, a pang of guilt for being so rude to them. Especially in front of others. You knew you’d have to make amends later.

Lucifer perked up, eyes wide and shining, “did you say-?”

Alastor’s smile nearly dropped, an unseen audience awwing over the radio static as he accidentally ripped the newspaper in half, “what was that now?”

Fuck.

A little tidbit of:

⟢Lucifer x Reader x Alastor - The Safeword is RadioApple smut💦

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

3/30 Just realized I didn’t tag the cult and this will be referenced in the next part soooo

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[emberuby]

in your arms forever — chapter three. | p.js

chapter two | series masterlist | epilogue.

pairing: park jongseong x fem reader

chapter summary: jake struggles to make sure you are okay as you fall into a state of heartbreak over your fiancé leaving you. jay’s mother is furious with him for ruining her plans and decides to take action into her own hands. 

warnings: assault, attempted murder, pregnancy, assault against a pregnant woman, mentions of abortion, drugging, implied child abuse, (very) minor character death, kidnapping, use of guns, smut (not as heavy as the last chapter), oral (fem rec), breeding kink, creampie, slightly rough sex, spanking, dom! jay, sub! reader. also, jay gets slapped twice 😭 sorry

taglist: @nshmrarki, @strxwbloody, @anittamaxwynnn, @heeheeyeoiizz01, @star4rin, @yohanabanana, @lilyuwon, @delvziion, @tinyteezer, @partiallyderived, @liebe-love, @honeybunnee, @tmtxtf, @yunjinhuhjennifer, @jaehyuniewifeu, @heelovesmeknot, @a-l-i-y-a, @littlebambi1302, @shawnyle, @taerifin

note: so sorry for the long wait 😓 i wanted to take a break from writing but now im back! this chapter is much more intense and violent than the previous ones, but the epilogue will be very sweet and fluffy (and steamy :)) ~ feedback is greatly encouraged and always feel free to ask questions ^^

wc: 14k

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Jake said sternly. One hand was pressed gently up against your back and the other was holding your hair back tightly as you spilled the contents of your stomach up into the toilet bowl. This was the second time today, and you lost count of how many times you’ve thrown up this week.

You were too preoccupied to verbally protest so you shook your head. Jake scanned your body in frustration, knowing you were going to refuse due to your depressive state and your unwillingness to step outside of the manor.

It had been a week and a half since Jay left the face of the earth. Jake was rather blindsided by all of it, not entirely in the know of why you two fell out. Almost every time he called Jay, he didn’t pick up. On the rare occasions, he did get back to Jake and all he would say was, “Keep an eye out for Y/N. I'll talk to you later.”

Jay had called off the wedding, and the day you found out it was like something within you shattered. Jake hadn’t known you for very long, but the blissful and carefree personality you used to dawn when you were with Jay was completely gone. He couldn’t count with his hands the number of times he heard you crying from your bedroom.

Jake wanted to curse at his childhood friend for leaving you so broken. Not only had you fallen into a state of distress, but your body was growing weaker. He never believed in heartbreak being able to cause sickness, but you were a prime example of such a health condition.

For the past few mornings, it was like your stomach could not handle any of the food you ate, and he was worried soon enough you would be throwing up stomach acid, which could be deeply dangerous.

Every time he urged you to let him take you to the hospital, you always told him no, and today was no different. However, he was done asking for your permission.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t take me to the hospital. I just need some water,” you began to stand up on shaky legs before Jake grabbed you by the waist to help steady you. You saw the look on his face in the mirror. He was glaring at your back, sighing loudly in frustration. 

“Water isn’t going to fix this, Y/N, you’ve been sick for days,” he said sternly. You turned around to try and protest, but he quickly stopped it by placing a finger on your lips and shutting you up, “Nope. Nu-uh, this isn’t negotiable.” 

Jay told Jake you couldn’t leave the manor under any circumstances, but surely he would make an exception to this. He knew deep inside that whatever happened between you two didn't stop the love Jay had for you, and he wouldn't want to see the love of his life sick like this.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Jay’s voice echoed through the walls of the Park manor. His mother was sitting on the living room couch, her fingers wrapped around a glass of brandy, her face showing no reaction to her son’s harsh words. 

“That’s no way to speak to your mother, sweetheart. Why don’t you come sit down?” she smiled at him, patting the cushion beside her as though she had no care in the world. 

Jay felt like he was going to burst into flames. “You told me you would leave Y/N out of this, you promised me.” 

“I did promise not to hurt her. But tell me, son, does your fiancé have a scratch on her head? Did I hit her, send my men after her, or drown her in the Styx? No? So why all the drama?” 

In all honesty, Aeri wasn’t entirely too sure why Jay ever cared so much about you. 

She remembered him asking her—pretty much begging—to not hurt you because you were the only innocent member of your family. Aeri always chalked it up to Jay having a softer heart compared to her. 

Jay always thought of himself as a monster, never being able to erase the blood on his hands that he spilt in the name of his mother. However, if Jay was a monster, Aeri was a demoness in human form. If it weren’t for Jay’s aversion, you and many other innocent people would have probably been killed by her. 

“You didn’t even tell me of your plan to poison her, I thought were supposed to be a team—”

“Poison her? Did I raise a man-child? A philtre is no poison, I just made her fall in love with you. Is that so bad? I wasn’t planning on ever laying a hand on her, I just wanted her to feel the pain in her heart of knowing someone she loved never loved her back.”

Oh, she didn’t even begin to know how wrong she was. 

“It doesn’t matter. You should’ve never begun to make those stupid fucking drinks. They made you so power-hungry I can barely recognise you. You cannot control everyone around you,” his voice was hoarse as it strained from all the yelling he’d done previously. He could feel his throat becoming dry.

Aeri looked him up and down in disappointment, sucking at her teeth and sighing quietly, “I noticed you took some yourself. The antidote I think? So I’m guessing Y/N is back to hating you and pining after that Sunghoon boy,” Aeri was holding back her anger from knowing that Jay ruined her entire plan by giving you the antidote and letting you go free, but knew she would eventually have it under control. 

Her words stung Jay in the heart, filling it with bitter poison. The love of his life was gone, at the snap of a finger. Knowing that the brief moment of bliss shared by you two was all under the control of his wretched mother made him feel sick in the stomach. What made him feel especially disgusting was that he used you while you were intoxicated.

He let his love for you make him lose track of logic, and he ended up hurting you in the process. 

Aeri took one more swig of her brandy before she said, “I hope you know, Jay, I don’t get why you’re so hurt by this. You barely know the girl.” 

Jay clenched his fist he felt his fingernails cutting into his palms, most likely leaving bright red marks on the skin. Aeri finally looked over at her son, into his darkened eyes that were swimming in turmoil. It suddenly came to her. 

“You’re in love with her,” Aeri declared, her eyes glinting in realisation. 

Jay’s eyes failed him as they immediately gave away how he was feeling. He shook his head, “No, I’m not.” It was too late however, Aeri had finally realised what this was all about. 

Aeri slammed her glass on the coffee table and began to laugh maniacally. Her eyes sparked with delight. “Oh Gods, this really didn’t work out the way I wanted it,” she placed a palm on her stomach as she continued to giggle, “How ironic. This whole time I needed you to break her heart, and yet she turned the tables on me. That little bitch.” 

Jay tried once more, knowing this was dangerous information for his mother to know, “I am not in love with her. You aren’t fucking listening to me.”

“Do not lie to me, son,” she stood up from the couch, and the fierce look in her eye almost took Jay back to when he was a little boy, when all he wanted was for his mother and father to love him back, and he never understood why they continued to hurt him. 

Jay felt pathetic as he averted his gaze from her in fear. He was scared for himself, but also for you. Now that his mother knew he was in love with you, he knew danger was coming your way.

“Are you thinking of Charlotte, sweetheart?” Aeri asked with the most obviously fake concern she could muster. Her lips curled into a smirk when Jay snapped his head at her in shock. He hadn’t heard that name in years, except for in his occasional nightmares.

“Why would you bring her up?” Jay asked his voice with a hint of betrayal. 

“You think I’m going to kill another one of your girls, and that’s why you have you’re here, isn’t it? Tail tucked between your legs, begging me to have mercy on poor little Y/N.” Aeri pouted her lips mockingly.

Jay’s mind flashed back to when he was sixteen. He had just started his first year at the St. Justinian Academy, and he had found himself falling for Charlotte Kim, a student one year his senior. 

He remembered how enamoured he was with her, and how incredible it felt to be loved back when he had never experienced it before. She was smart, witty and much more mature than he was at the time. It was what most people would have considered puppy love. 

On his eighteenth birthday, she hadn’t shown up to the gathering. When he spoke to her a week later, she broke his heart by telling him she couldn’t keep seeing him. In a snap of her fingers, the love that he nurtured and woke up every day for was gone.

While Jay was still waiting to graduate from St. Justinian, Charlotte had already gone abroad to university. He had thought a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be an issue until they slowly and slowly started to drift apart. 

It turned out that Charlotte had cheated on him with an older man at her university, and the guilt of her unfaithfulness made her begin to ignore him through the last few months of their relationship. It broke Jay to pieces, and although he was furious, all he wanted was for her to leave his life, and never come back. 

When his mother found out, however, she had different plans. Jay wouldn’t have seen it coming from a mile away, as one day he turned on the television and heard the news of a young female socialite turning up dead, her body found floating in the Styx.

His mind completely broke afterwards. Jay felt his heart get ripped out of his chest, never having expected his mother to go as far as to do something so heinous. Aeri did not even try to deny it, telling him sternly that nothing would ever hurt him without proper repercussion. 

Ever since he was eighteen, Jay had vowed to not fall in love. He had no trust in his mother after the death of Charlotte and feared that any person he got too close to would risk the same fate. That was until he met you. Three years ago, when he was just twenty-four years old, he risked your life by falling in love with you, and now he was reaping what he’d sown.

“Is that why you married her? So you could protect her from me? Oh sweet child,” Aeri placed her finger underneath Jay’s chin, pulling it downwards so he could face her. Although the Parks were known to be very tall, the son still hovered over the matriarch. “You know I love you. How can you blame me for what happened to Charlotte when she hurt my sweet boy?”

“What happened to Charlotte? Are you serious? You murdered her. She had a family, she was so young.”

“And she was out being a whore, fucking around with pathetic school boys while my brilliant son, who was far too good for her may I add, was waiting for her patiently. I don’t take that kind of betrayal lightly,” she sneered. 

“My betrayal is not for you to avenge,” he said. You should’ve been there for me, comforted me and told me I would be alright. You should’ve acted like a mother, not an executioner, he wanted to continue. 

Aeri shook her head, stubborn as ever, “One day you will become a father and you will understand.”

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever do something like that,” he fumed. 

“That’s rich of you to say, sweetheart. You have just as much blood on your hands as me, if not more.”

“Under your orders.”

“Oh is that so? I don’t remember ever asking you to kill Marco,” she directed. Jay felt as though he was finally cornered. His eyes darkened at the reminder of your former guard and the vile things he did to you. 

“He assaulted Y/N—,” he began shakily before he was cut off.

“Ahh, so you do know what it means to kill for those you love. I never thought I’d end up raising such a hypocrite.”

Jay’s eyes darkened. In his head, he imagined grabbing his mother by the neck and screaming at her from all the frustrations he had built up inside him through the years. 

“I don’t want to repeat myself. Do not lay a hand on her,” he said.

“She broke your heart, sweetheart. That must not go unpunished,” she said nonchalantly.

She couldn’t be fucking serious. “You were the one who controlled her! She didn’t break my heart, you did by fucking drugging her!”

He felt the heat of her palm strike him in the cheek. He hadn’t flinched, but his eyes gave away the hurt he felt. Once more, it was like he time travelled back to his adolescence. “I’ve had enough with you. Who do you think you are speaking to your mother that way? I will have that girl be hanged for all I care, she’s been a nuisance enough to me.”

“Mother—”

“Shut up. That bitch and that family are going down in flames, and I’m done playing these little games,” Aeri’s eyes were dark and oozing with anger. Her calm demeanour from earlier in the night was gone. “I thought you were better than this, Jay. You know what they did, how dare you go against me?”

“She had nothing to do with it.”

She refused to listen. “I don’t fucking care,” she turned to face the men standing in the doorway, “Guards, if you see my son trying to leave the premises, detain him immediately,” then she turned back to him, with the most terrifying look in her eyes, “If you’re smart enough, you will stay out of my way. There’s nothing more you can do to protect that little bitch.”

“Well congratulations, Miss,” the doctor called out as she walked into the waiting room with a pile of documents in her hand, “After conducting our tests, we’ve concluded that you’re four weeks pregnant.”

Jake’s eyes flew open the same way your mouth did after hearing the news. You stared down at the ground, letting the news seep into you.

Pregnant. Four weeks. You were trying to piece together the timeline as you wondered when it could’ve been that Jay got you pregnant, as it’s been around three months since you’ve been engaged to him.

Your hands began to tremble at the realisation that it didn’t really matter when or where you got pregnant given that Jay had chosen to walk out of your life. You began to worry as you realised for the past week and a half all you’d felt was misery and grief and wondered if it was harming the baby by any chance. 

“I…,” you trailed off, your mind still reeling in shock, your body not knowing how to react. All you could do was place your hands on the top of your stomach, as though to comfort the child.

“Is everything alright, Miss?” the doctor asked worriedly. He looked over at Jake who was sitting beside you and asked, “Would you happen to be the father?” 

Before you could say no, Jake confidently told the doctor, “I’m her brother. The father is currently away on a business trip but,” he looked over at you with the kindest smile he could muster up in the current state of shock he was in, “he will be elated to hear the news.”

Your eyes welled up with tears at the reminder of your situation. You were glad that Jake lied on your behalf to save you the embarrassment, but you were still filled with anguish at the thought of your ex-fiancé.

It was funny really, how in a span of just a few months you managed to be an ex-fiancé to two different men, and now you were left pregnant with one of their children. You supposed you just weren’t someone that could be kept around, instead destined to have your heart broken and be left in the cold. 

“We’ll just need to conduct a few more tests before you’re free to leave and—Oh! I think that’s your phone, sir,” the doctor pointed at Jake and he looked over at his table to see his phone vibrating. 

When he turned the phone over, it revealed to be none other than the father of your baby. You flinched when you looked over at the screen and saw who it was, and Jake looked back at you apologetically. 

“I have to take this, I’ll be right back,” he said before rushing out of the door. Speaking of the devil. 

“Jake? Hello, are you there?” he heard from the other line. Jay’s tone was urgent and rushed.

“Glad to hear back from you after you disappeared from the face of the earth for—”

“Jake! Shut the fuck up, I need you to—”

“Keep an eye out for Y/N, yes, yes. I know. You told me this a hundred times, she’s fine.”

“I’m fucking serious, Jake. Find a way to get her out of the manor and into somewhere safe, make sure nobody sees you. My mother,” Jay paused for a moment to catch his breath, “my mother is coming after her. I’m locked in here and she’s coming to kill Y/N.”

Jake’s eyes bulged out. He knew from the beginning that the Parks were having internal issues with your family for a while and that one wrong move would’ve led to either you, your sister or your father being killed, but he had not expected you to be the first one.

He clenched his phone tightly and walked towards a secluded corner of the hallway. “What the fuck, Jay? She’s not even in the manor right now—”

“She’s not home? I gave you one fucking job and it was to keep her safe in the manor, what the fuck do you mean she’s not home?” Jay’s voice was strained and rough. Jake would’ve been dead meat if Jay got his hands on him right now.

“I had to take her to the hospital,” Jake said, all too frustrated at how Jay was not listening to him. 

There was silence on the other end of the call, and all Jake could hear was heavy breathing. “W-What?” Jay’s voice cracked, “What happened? Why is she in the hospital? Why didn’t you tell me she was sick?”

“Why do you think, dumbass? You went MIA for a week and you expected me to call you instead of the doctor? And she’s not sick. She’s…,” Jake trailed off, not sure how to break it to him. 

“Jake, I am losing my fucking patience. Tell me right now what’s wrong.” 

What’s wrong with my girl? What happened to her? Was it my fault? The thoughts were rushing through Jay’s mind like a waterfall.

“She’s pregnant. Four weeks,” Jake said. Like before, the call went silent, but before Jay could cut him off, he continued, “You know, Jay, you’re so full of bullshit. I don’t care what happened between you, you shouldn’t have left her. She’s been depressed all week and she can barely function without you. Maybe if you were here, she wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Jake began to walk urgently back into your waiting room with the goal of getting you out as soon as possible. 

“She’s pregnant…with my—”

“Well, who else’s? It’s not like she ever left your fucking house.”

Jay’s breathing became shaky, but he knew he had no time to process this before he knew you were away from danger. Now that he knew you were out in public, he had no idea how much time he had left before his mother found you. 

A sick part of him hoped that your sadness was proof that you had true feelings for him, but then he began to wonder if perhaps the antidote did not work properly, or maybe you were depressed over something completely unrelated to him. As much as he wanted you to truly love him, his mother’s actions checked his reality, making him realise that someone as pure as you would never and should never love someone monstrous like him.

“Jake, have you found her?” Jay urged.

“Jay…She’s not here. Neither is the doctor. Fuck. I…,” Jake replied back urgently, now rushing round the hallway trying to find any traces of where you could have gone. He noticed your doctor walking towards the room and ran up to him to ask where on earth you went. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sim, I’m not sure where she went. I told her to stay in the room while I went to go get paperwork,” he looked at the younger man worriedly. “I’m sure she’s okay, probably just in the restroom.”

Jake could hear loud yelling coming from his phone, but he had to ignore it as he turned back and kept looking around in the hallway. 

He prayed that the doctor was right, but he knew deep inside that you had probably already been taken discretely. He cursed under his breath, knowing he’d fucked up and now you were probably in the hands of Aeri.

“Jay…”

“Tell me, Jake. Tell me you found her.”

“She’s gone.”

You felt it before you even opened your eyes. The burning pain and the liquid fire running through your veins. Your mouth felt as dry as the Sahara. When you did manage to open your heavy eyes, the world was like a blur. You couldn’t move a single muscle without your body screaming at you in agony. 

You groaned as you felt the light of the bulb pool into your vision, so bright you felt like you were being blinded.

“Good evening, you pretty thing,” you heard a mature female voice speak. It sounded familiar for a moment. You wondered for a minute who it could have been until your eyes finally managed to focus on the figure standing in front of you.

Then you saw her. Park Aeri, the CEO of Aphrodite Corporation, and your former mother-in-law. She was standing as tall and beautiful as ever, her long black hair with not a single strand out of place. She looked gorgeous even in the dim lighting of this seemingly abandoned storage garage. 

What on earth were you doing here? You tried to remember what happened last before you fell asleep but it was mostly a blur. You remember a nurse coming into your room when the doctor left to go handle some business, and she urged you to come to another area for more testing.

You remembered the nurse telling you she would give you a shot, which was a common procedure for those in the early stages of their pregnancy. The last thing you could recall was the needle going into your skin, and then passing out a few moments later. 

You realised then and there, you’ve been taken. The nurse must have been in the pocket of Aeri and ordered to intoxicate you and now here you were, in a dark cell with the woman of your nightmares in your company.

“W-What? Why am I here?” you asked, reaching forward to stand up from your seat before you felt yourself be pulled back by the tight ropes wrapped around your chest. You looked down on the cold, hard concrete ground, and although you couldn’t see it, you could feel something thin and made of metal pressing against your back.

You were wrapped against a metal pole, bound and unable to move. You sent a menacing glare towards Aeri, not that she was at all intimidated by it.

“That necklace of yours,” Aeri said sweetly, “It’s gorgeous. I believe my son took it from our family archives to give to you.” She began walking up slowly towards you, her heels clacking on the floor. You came face to face with her knee, and then she finally leaned down to face you, her eyes filled with venom and hunger for revenge. “It’s too bad it’s wrapped around such a worthless neck.”

You felt like you were spat on.

Aeri reached over to grab the pendant of the necklace, a bright ruby that glimmered with the slight bit of illumination of the central lightbulb. She stared at it intently before pulling you by the neck, causing the necklace to rip off of you and be destroyed. 

The skin on the back of your neck was stinging, and there were tears that were welling inside your eyes. She already took Jay away from you and now she had to take the last bit of him you still had left with you. 

You’ve taken off your engagement ring already, right after you found out that Jay called off the wedding. You remembered that night when your mind was reeling with a mixture of devastation and anger. A growing part of you was absolutely furious at Jay for leaving you in this state, and for not trusting you to love him.

As much as you still loved him, you couldn’t believe he would let his insecurities and the manipulation of his mother lead him to not even try to listen to you. Now you were left all alone, and you and your child were probably not going to make it out of this garage alive. 

“How long have I been here?” you finally managed to ask.

“Day and a half. Elena gave you a higher dosage than I expected. I was planning on killing you right when I first got my hands on you, but then I came across an obstacle,” she chuckled. “You little whore got yourself knocked up. That’s where things became tricky.”

You were surprised that a woman known for such vileness and ruthlessness hesitated in killing someone because they were pregnant, although you seriously doubted that it was out of moral consciousness. 

No, the only reason Aeri was worried was because her grandchild and her possible heir was growing in your womb. She was calculating the possibilities of what she could do. 

If Jay were to find out his own child was killed by his mother, she knew it would break him beyond repair. She harboured no fear of her son, but she was afraid of him leaving her. She could always argue that the murder of you and Charlotte was out of necessity, to protect his sensitive heart, but she had no excuse for this.   

“I suppose you plan on keeping it?” Aeri asked.

“I never said anything about that,” you murmured. A part of you was not sure if you were ready for pregnancy now that you were all alone and broken. Your future did not look promising, and you didn’t wish to raise a child in those circumstances.

It was a stark contrast to how you felt just a few weeks prior when the thought of raising a family with Jay sounded magical, but now that he walked out on your life, your heart was filled with a sense of dread. 

Aeri smirked. If you did abort the child, it would make this all the more simple. She may have been vile, but even she wouldn’t force a mother to choose, but the thought of you getting rid of your child was enticing given how much less complicated this all would be. 

She could kill you on the spot, and it would all be forgiven. 

“Does it make you happy? The thought of me losing my child and murdering me? I’m sure someone like you gets off on shit like that,” you said, eyes barely holding themselves open from the weakness of your body. 

“Watch your tone with me, bitch. I don’t wish a miscarriage for you, but you are getting on my nerves. If it weren’t for that baby inside you, you wouldn’t be living to be in my presence, so count yourself lucky,” Aeri’s confidence was staggering and making you roll your eyes.

“I can’t say I agree. I believe I must have pissed off the Gods for me to be in your wretched—,” You couldn’t finish your words before you heard the sound of a gunshot ringing in your ear.

In Aeri’s hand was a small shotgun pointed at you, and you looked over to see the bullet graze the ground just a few feet away from you. The speed at which your heart began to palpitate made it feel like it was knocking on your chest. 

“One more remark from you and it will be your leg next time, do you understand?”

You continued to test her, “you said you weren’t going to hurt my baby.”

“Is your baby growing in your legs? I’ll just shoot you and have my nurses stitch you up afterwards. All the better for me, your baby will be safe but you’ll be in excruciating pain—”

“Mrs. Park, I suggest you don’t do that. Even a minor loss of blood can cause the miscarriage of the baby,” you heard a female voice coming from behind you. You recognised it to be the nurse that drugged you and took you to Aeri. Fucking cunt.

“I see,” Aeri said all too unapologetically. She threw the gun on the floor and smiled at you, her signature manipulation tactic. “Apologies for my rashness.”

“Why do you want to kill me so much? If I die, you won’t have anything to hold against my father.”

“You think I give a shit about that anymore? I noticed you took my blackmail files. Stupid decision, because I don’t give a shit about them anymore. The endgame is here, Y/N. Your family is going down one by one, whether you like it or not. I’m done with threats and blackmail and all these other petty games. Your family’s blood will be on my hand.” She said it so calmly, in an almost unnerving way.

“You never even explained why you wanted to take revenge on my family so badly. What on earth could my father have done? And my sister, I mean she’s barely ever met you and now she has a hit on her head from a psychotic bitch. I want to understand.” 

Aeri was throwing daggers at you with her eyes, not at all too happy with you referring to her as psychotic, but she had to hold back now that she knew she couldn’t spill any of your blood. 

Aeri sighed, thinking she might as well tell you now that she’s determined to kill you. 

“Do you remember your mother at all?”

What an odd question, you thought. “Not really,” you said. You were only a few years old when your mother passed away, but Karina was old enough to have remembered it all, still traumatised from her early death. Your father and sister have mostly shielded you away from finding out how she was killed, and to this day the topic was too sensitive for them to have said much about it. 

“Your father was too guilty to explain anything to you, I’m guessing,” Aeri said.

Too guilty? Surely she didn’t mean…

She continued, “Your mother died under his watch.” You were left frozen in shock and dispelled. You didn’t believe her. You couldn’t believe her. 

"When he began to get involved with Olympus’ underworld, he knew it was dangerous for you all. He had debts and ties to some of the most dangerous families in this world. I told her and I told him that he was putting you all in danger by being so stupid, and yet he did it anyway. If he hadn’t gotten involved, your mother would be alive today.” Aeri raised her hand to begin wiping away tiny tears that were beginning to spill from her eyes, “That bastard killed the person I loved the most. She was my best friend and my soulmate.”

Fucking hell. 

It all came crashing on you like a river. Your jaw fell as everything began to piece itself together.

You tried to keep your composure steady, even if you began to feel your heartache at the mention of your late mother. “Who killed her?”

“A hitman for the Lee family,” she replied. The Lees were one of the five major crime families in Olympus. 

It all came crashing on you like a river. You began piecing everything together at a breakneck speed. 

Your father never talked about your mother because he felt responsible for her death, and the reason Karina got involved with Lee Heeseung was because his family killed your mother. 

You always thought Karina slipped in her judgement by being in a relationship with a criminal, but this whole time she was just trying to get answers and revenge. 

It’s why your father threatened to kill Heeseung, terrified at the thought of a Lee causing harm to another one of his family members.

This entire family war was started because of Aeri’s grief for her friend, and although a part of you felt sympathy for her, you knew she didn’t deserve an ounce of it after threatening to kill your family.

Your thoughts were like a completed puzzle, and your mind was struggling to process all of it. 

“Killing me isn’t going to bring her back. Trust me, if it did I would’ve completed the job myself,” you spat out.

“Killing you would remove the constant reminder of my loss. I want your father to pay for what he did. A swift death is not what that bastard deserves; I’ll make him suffer and witness the death of his only two children before I kill him with my bare hands.”

“You will never be able to get over your loss. I know you think killing me and setting fire to the world will avenge her death, but you will never stop grieving,” you tried to reason with her.

Through the tears welling up in her eyes, you could see Aeri’s dark fury, “I don’t need a therapy lesson from you, bitch. I will—”

There was a loud banging noise coming from behind you and you could hear the nurse behind you cry in fear. You clenched your eyes shut as you heard the sound of steel and metal hitting the concrete floor, and you could smell the dust enveloping the room.

You heard loud yelling from a group of men, one of which you recognised. Your heart fell as you could hear the voice of Jay behind you say, “Disarm her of any weapons and cuff her. Don’t let her get away.”

You looked up to see Aeri’s eyes darkened with fury, her fists clenched as she tried to move away from the men who were now surrounding her. They were swift, however, binding her with silver cuffs and looking through her pockets to find two knives. 

You felt a gentle hand touch your arm and looked over to see Jake carefully cutting open the ropes you were surrounded by.

“What the fuck are you doing, Jay? I told you not to get in my way,” Aeri growled, frustrated at the feeling of her hands behind her back. 

Jay ignored her. His mind was reeling with disappointment and anger at her, his brain not even processing his mother’s words. The sight of you tied up, bruised and beaten while his mother watched maniacally was going to haunt all of his future nightmares. 

“You’re going to prison, Aeri,” Jay murmured, his voice sounding foreign to his ears. He could not handle the level of anger and agony that was flooding his veins. 

Aeri threw her head back as she began to laugh, “You can’t be serious Jay. You choose this bitch over me, the mother that you love? We’re family Jay.”

“You’ve stopped being my mother the moment you made me your executioner,” he sneered. His whole life he’s been seeking the true love and validation of his mother, and he realised that was his biggest mistake in his life. “I’ve stopped loving you a long time ago, Aeri. I only regret acting so late, and now you could’ve almost killed the love of my life.”

Your heart ached at his words. Jake finally managed to free you from your hold and gently picked you up by your waist to begin walking outside the garage. Your hand reached out behind him, yearning to touch Jay, but he was too far away. You could only see his back, but you could tell from his posture the inner turmoil within him. 

“Jake, thank you for finding me,” you whispered into his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I think Jay would’ve killed me if I didn’t manage to find you. Sorry for not keeping an eye on you, I guess some of this is my fault—”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and began rubbing his back gently, “Don’t say that, I don’t blame you. I haven’t known you for long, Jake, but thank you for being my friend.” You whispered, “Thank you.”

You knew it was only his job, but you felt yourself grow a tender relationship with Jake during the last few weeks. He was kind, and gentle and took care of you while Jay was gone. 

Jay…

I love you, Jay.

“Where is Jay?” you asked breathily, your mind becoming hazy. You felt your consciousness slowly begin to slip away.

“Jay is nearby, he’ll be here soon. He just has something to deal with,” Jake could tell your mind was trying to repel this traumatic experience.

“I love him, Jake.”

“I know that.”

“I love him so much, I can’t lose him. I can’t die, Jake.”

Jake placed a hand on your head and gently placed you in the back seat of one of his cars. When making their plan, Jay wanted to be the one to deal with his mother, so he asked Jake to be the one to take you away as soon as he could.

“I’m not going to let you die. I have to take you away, Y/N.”

I love you, Jay. 

“No! I can’t leave without Jay. I can’t handle one more moment without him, please let me see him,” you began to stand up on your seat, but fell back down as your body was too weak to carry yourself. 

Jake looked at you sympathetically but shook his head. He closed the door stepped into the passenger seat, and drove away into the night. “I need to take you to the emergency room, Y/N.” He was going to make sure to stay beside you the entire time now, as he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone anymore. 

“Jay? Where is Jay?” 

Jake sighed at your state; you were completely out of it and on the brink of losing consciousness. “Y/N, when was the last time you ate or drank water?”

You whispered, “I don’t know…I woke up just now. My mouth feels dry…so dry.”

“Fuck,” Jake muttered under his breath as he pressed harder on the gas and rushed his way faster towards the hospital. If you had only just woken up, that would mean you hadn’t been fed in over two days. 

Jake was not a religious man, but he began praying to the Gods that you were going to be alright.

You could hear the sound of constant beeping, and your hand was being cradled by rough and calloused hands. 

Then you heard the noise of a door slamming open before a frantic voice said, “Doctor, is she okay? Is the baby fine? Will she be alright, is she hurt? When will she wake up? Please—”

“Mr. Park, I can’t tell you anything if you don’t let me speak, so please be quiet,” you heard an older female voice say. 

Then the voice beside you—Jake you presumed—said, “Sit down, Jay.”

You heard the sound of steps shuffling as Jay walked up beside you. He sighed as he looked at your state, needles sticking inside your arms, your body covered in a blue garment, your skin devoid of any warmth. His heart cracked at the sight.

“She’s suffered some head trauma, and she was dangerously dehydrated. She’s definitely been roughed up, but she’s in the process of recovery. She’ll have to stay here for a while so we can monitor and heal her, but she’s already improving.” You could hear Jay’s breathing quicken. “The baby is also safe, I can assure you.”

“So how long does she have to stay?” Jay asked, voice slightly shaky.

“I can’t give you an exact time. It could be a few days to a week, we’re not entirely sure. Because she’s pregnant, we have to be especially careful with her, and we want to make sure she leaves the hospital as healthy as possible.”

Jay took hold of your other hand. You missed the feeling, of his warm and soft skin laying on yours, and if you could bring yourself to move yourself, you would. You desperately wanted to lace your fingers through his.

Gods, you missed him. 

You hummed, finally beginning to gain the ability to control your body. Nobody heard you, but you were elated and began trying to move more. 

You ever so slowly blinked your eyes open, noting that everyone was too intensely staring at each other to notice you. Finally, you lifted your fingers to press them against Jay’s and you heard him gasp loudly. 

“She’s awake,” Jay announced, leaning down to face you, his eyes filled with love and worry. 

You saw the doctor walk up to you with a clipboard in her hands. “How are you feeling, Miss?”

You tried to move your head but winced at the soreness of your neck. “I-I’m alright. A bit sore, and I have a headache.” 

“That’s expected and normal. You can rest, Y/N, we’ll be taking care of you from now on.”

You nodded, smiling at the doctor and gratitude. You grasped Jay’s hands and looked over at him. He looked like a mess, a rare sight. His eyes were bloodshot red, his clothes were dirty and his hair was ruffled. You knew from his hair alone how stressed he must have been, as he always ran his hands through his hair when he was worried. Even then, he looked so beautiful. 

“Could we have a moment alone?” you asked the room. The doctor and Jake swiftly left the room to give you and Jay space. 

The room was silent for a moment, with only the sounds of your heart monitor breaking the stillness. You two just kept looking at each other, taking it all in. He was finally back. He was in front of you. He wasn’t gone. 

“Did you miss me, Jay?” You weren’t sure why one earth that was the first thing you decided to say to him. It was stupid, but you wanted to confirm he still had love for you after everything. You noticed a lone tear trail down Jay’s face. You weren’t sure if he was even able to process your words. “You shouldn’t have left me, Jay.”

He knew that well enough after getting multiple scoldings from Jake about the state he left you in. 

“I was trying to set you free,” Jay said unsurely. 

“That’s bullshit,” you sneered. Your fury was a forest fire that slowly began expanding as you began to think of how easily Jay left you behind. “I know you think your mother was forcing me to love you, but Gods couldn’t you just have heard me out? You could barely look at me before you told me to fuck off from your life. I wanted to grow a family with you, Jay. I loved you and I love you still. That potion your mother fed me did nothing except get me drunk.”

He looked down in shame. “And what if the antidote didn’t work? What if you still need time to get over the effects, what if—”

“Are you serious?!” your eyebrows furrowed as you glared in astonishment, “I am telling you here how much I love you and you’re still thinking this. I mean, is it really so hard to think I could love you?”

“Yes.”

Your heart dropped and you began to feel your eyes brimming with tears. What was it going to take for him to understand? You began to stand up from the bed before Jay quickly leaned down and gently pushed you back.

“Don’t exert yourself, please.”

You ignored him, swatting away his hands and going up into a sitting position. You cupped Jay’s face and brought his forehead to yours. You could feel his breathing fanning your chest, and it broke your heart to see his tearful and pink-tinted eyes. “I don’t know if I can live without you, Jay. When you left, it felt like one-half of me was ripped away from my body.”

“I shouldn’t have left you. If only I had known…,” he placed a hand over yours. The look in your eyes was filled with love, even after all the things he had done to you. As much as he wanted to believe you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he kept you away from your family, let his mother control your relationship and then left you while you were pregnant. 

“Are you going to leave again?” your voice cracked as you asked, fearing the worst. 

“I’ll be wherever you want me to be.”

“I want you with me. I want you to come home, baby.”

You placed a thumb on his cheek to brush away his tears, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your lips. The feeling of his skin on yours was missed by you dearly. He held your head as though it were porcelain and could break at any moment. He slowly trailed his hands down to your neck and then eventually the small of your back. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you began pulling him against you as hard as you could, wanting to feel every part of his body on yours. You were becoming desperate, and it was hard to continue breathing. 

He groaned into your mouth as you began running your fingers through his thick hair, pulling it gently to elicit his beautiful noises. He was always sensitive to his scalp. 

Your moment of passion was cut off by the sound of a cough. You both snapped your heads to the door to see Jake looking amused, his eyes glinting with satisfaction at you two getting back together. He felt disappointed as he had to put an end to your tender moment as he said, “Jay, you need to go—”

Jay stood up from his chair. “Yes, yeah. I’ll be right there,” he said breathlessly. He looked down at you apologetically and took hold of your hand to press a kiss against your knuckle, “I’m sorry love, I’ll be right back. I have some unfinished business left to deal with. Wait for me.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door in a rush. Gone, ever so quickly. 

“Where did he go? Is everything okay?” you asked Jake. 

“Do you not remember why you’re here?” 

Then it clicked in your head. Jay went to see his mother, to try and deal with her. Jake sat down on the chair that Jay was previously occupying. He was glad to see you were seemingly doing a lot better. 

“Jake, what is going to happen to Aeri? Is she okay?” you asked.

“You’re asking if the woman that tried to kill you is okay? Is your head still intact?” Jake furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. 

You sighed, knowing it was absurd. For the most part, you did wish the worst for her after the things she put you and Jay through, but there was a small part of you that felt sympathy. 

She burned the world down with her bare hands and almost destroyed your entire family, but knowing it was for the love of your mother made your heart ache for her. 

Aeri gained her reputation for violence and corruption around twenty years ago as far as you were aware, which lined up with the time of your mother’s passing. You began to wonder what their relationship was like, and if Aeri was a different person before her best friend’s death. Perhaps she was loving, caring and kind.

“You’re right. I’m being ridiculous. It’s just that…,” you trailed off. 

“You’re too forgiving, Y/N. That woman will burn for the things she did to you and I’ll make sure of it.”

“I never said I forgive her,” you sighed. “Is she going to get arrested?”

“She will. Jay is in the process of making sure you get the justice you deserve. It will be hard to make sure she gets a deserving sentence because of her power and her relationships with politicians, but we are sitting on a pile of evidence of her crimes.” Jake had hoped that wretched woman got the death sentence but decided to keep that to himself so as not to startle your sensitive heart. 

“How did you guys manage to do it?”

“I won’t bore you with the details. To keep it short, we hired a hacker who managed to find hundreds of incriminating messages and emails on Aeri’s private computer. While you were in the storage garage with her, he managed to get this little microphone chip under the cracks of the door and it captured her admission. The tape has got everything: her confession of wanting to kill you, her motive, and all the conversations she had with her nurse before you woke up. She’s dead meat, I can assure you that.” 

You nodded, satisfied with the answer. 

“I wonder how Jay feels about it,” you said quietly. “I know he felt betrayed, but that’s his mother. When I was with him, sometimes it felt like the love he had for her was breaking him.”

“Then that’s no love at all,” Jake took your hand in his gently, palming it gently. His hands were so rough compared to Jay’s gentle and soft ones.

During the time you spent with Jay, you hadn’t known if the feelings he harboured for his mother were deep fear or love and devotion. Sometimes it felt like a mixture of all, so your mind couldn’t help but break for him knowing what he had to do now. 

After all the things he had done for his mother, none of it ever mattered now that he was the one responsible for her punishment. Jay went from being her executioner to the one that had to execute her, and you knew it would fuck him up in the head. 

You wish none of this was real, and that it was all a bad dream. You just wanted to go back to the days you were safe and alone with Jay out on the outskirts of Olympus. 

The lights in your room were dimmed, and the window to the outside showed a pitch-black sky with a few twinkling stars adorning it. You had been tended to well by all the nurses, and your pain had begun to subdue. 

You were alone until you heard the door slowly creak as Jay entered the room. He tried to be as quiet as possible, thinking you may have been asleep already. When he saw that you were still awake, he smiled at you warmly. 

You wanted to ask him how it went, but you could tell he was stressed behind his happy demeanour. As long as that woman never laid a hand on you and your family again, you felt secure. 

“Did I disturb your sleep, my love?” he asked, placing a kiss between your brows. His skin felt so hot. 

“I’m pretty tired but I didn’t want to sleep until I got a chance to see you.”

It made him feel guilty that you stayed up past your exhaustion just to wait for him. He sat beside you and eyed you up and down. Your chest heaved slowly up and down, your body in a state of tranquillity. 

He gently placed a hand on your stomach and began rubbing it. There wasn’t much of a bump yet, if any, but it made him shudder to think you two were going to be a family by next year. 

“How do you feel?” he asked, his eyes glinting with concern.

“About the baby?” When he nodded, you continued, “You know I had a dream about this. I saw you in a field, with two little kids running around. They looked just like you.”

“Yeah?”

“I loved it. The older one was a girl, with long black hair. There was a little boy as well, barely two or three, Gods he was adorable. A carbon copy of you might I add,” you sighed in bliss at the thought of your future family. “I know we’re both young, and maybe the circumstances aren’t great, but I love you and I want to grow a child with you.”

Jay tried to imagine what you were thinking of, and it made his heart ache to think of your children when they grew up. You two frequently talked about starting a family back when you were under the spell of the philtre, so he needed the utmost confirmation that you truly wanted this. He needed to know you wanted a child and wanted him to raise them with you. 

“I love you, Y/N. I'll do anything for you and our family.”

You sighed in relief, feeling like you two were both on the same page.

Your mind went back to your last interaction with him before he left, where you were tangled in a passionate and desperate kiss. You missed each other so dearly, it was like a clash of love and yearning. Surely, if Jake hadn’t interrupted you, you would have pounced on him and made up for all the lost time. 

“I missed you, baby,” you said. You reached your arm out, motioning him to lay beside you on the bed. The patient's bed was not particularly spacious, but you moved over to give him enough room to lay beside you. You needed him as close to you as possible. 

Jay shook his head, failing to conceal his smirk. He was always so in tune with your feelings and body language and could tell you wanted him to take you. “You need to rest, my love.”

“I need you inside me,” you said breathily, looking at him with sultry eyes. Your lips were pouted and 

Jay clenched his fist, knowing you were using your power over him to your advantage. He

“You are injured, and you just went through something traumatic. The last—”

“Then I need something to make it all better,” you grinned at him. You always loved acting like you didn’t know the effect you had on the man, as though you didn’t realise the deeper meaning behind your words. 

Jay stood up from his chair to go stand in front of you. “I don’t like when my wife acts like a brat. I should probably punish you, but given the circumstances, I’ll let you have a free pass.” He slid off the blanket that was covering your lower body. “Just understand this; I’m in control.”

You nodded submissively, eyes twinkling in anticipation. “Sorry, this hospital gown isn’t the sexiest thing to get us going.”

Jay smiled to himself. “My love, you could be wearing a hazmat suit and you would still give me a hard-on.”

You placed your palm over your face as you felt it heat up. Gods, he always made you so nervous. 

He slid up your gown to your waist, and you clenched your thighs as you could feel the cool air hitting your core. He wasn’t having any of it as he spread your legs by the knees, jaw falling at the sight of your already glistening pussy. 

“Fuck. You don’t understand how much I’m holding myself back,” Jay said. If it weren’t for your injuries, he would’ve been drilling you into the mattress by now, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He usually wasn’t gentle with you after you both realised how much you loved rough sex. However, today it had to be different, no matter how much you protested. He had to be as careful as possible.

“You don’t have to hold back,” you whimpered, already feeling desperate for his touch. 

“You don’t get to make the rules today, my love,” he replied back, leaning down to face your cunt. You shivered as you felt him blow air onto your pussy, the feeling of it already giving you pleasurable stimulation. “Make sure to keep quiet. We don’t want to alert the entire hospital you’re getting fucked, now do we?”

You shook your head, “No, sir. I’ll be quiet. Please touch me.”

You didn’t have to say anything more as Jay plunged his tongue into your pussy. You had to bite the back of your hand to stifle your moans, your mind already going haywire at the feeling of his mouth latched around you. 

He began licking your cavern. The feeling of his wet tongue exploring you was going to make you cum as quickly as a university freshman losing their virginity. Your pre-orgasm tingles were already travelling up your spine, and by the Gods, it was embarrassing. 

“F-Feels so good, s-sir. G-Gonna cum!” you moaned. 

Although you couldn’t see him as your eyes were shut from the tsunami of pleasure, you could feel Jay smirk into your pussy. He continued to play with your clit as he said, “Already? It’s barely been a few minutes. Let me have a little fun.” 

Now, your neck and ears began to heat up from the embarrassment. You nodded meekly, “‘M sorry! I j-just can…can’t take it.” 

He sighed mockingly, “Look at you. Two weeks without my cock and now you can barely function. I’ll have to break you in once more.”

You made the mistake of not having your mouth occupied, as a moan crushed out of you, surely loud enough for whoever was in the hallway to hear. You prayed that the wing was relatively empty and that nobody was in your earshot. 

You yelped as you felt Jay strike the side of your thigh, but thankfully this time you managed to muffle it with your palm. 

“I told you to be quiet, my love. Should’ve brought a ball gag if I knew you would be this loud.” Jay could feel your cunt clench around his fingers, noting how turned on you were at the thought. “You’d like that, huh? Should I go out and buy us some toys?”

You thought about it before, but you two hadn’t usually involved sex toys in your intimate life. The only times were when Jay would stick a remote control vibrator inside you before you would go out, teasing you the entire day until making you cum at the most embarrassing and inconvenient places. 

Jay went back down to continue what he was before. The feeling of his two fingers stretching your insides out, mixed with the feeling of his tongue playing with your sensitive bud was making it hard for you to breathe. Any second now you were going to orgasm all over him.

You mewled and writhed as you felt yourself fall over the edge, your arousal coating his tongue as he continued to lick you to prolong your orgasm. He loved to see you like this; so full of pleasure your body couldn’t even contain it. 

Your breathing was heavy, and Jay stood up to admire his work. There was never a moment where you weren’t beautiful, but your body in its post-orgasm state was practically divine.

He intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss on your cheek. You looked over at him pleadingly, then placed your hand on his tightened crotch. He hissed at the feeling of your palm causing friction to his hard-on and swiftly moved your hand away. 

You whined in frustration, “I want to make you feel good too.”

“And I need you to rest. Go to sleep, my love. I’ll go bring you tea.”

“But—”

He pinched your chin and tipped it up towards his face, “I’ll promise you this, Y/N, the day that I know you’re okay and your body can handle it, I will fuck you the way you deserve to be.” He wasn’t going to let you leave the bed when he got his hands on you properly. 

You swallowed hard and nodded defeatedly. 

It had been less than a week since you’d been admitted to the hospital, and now you were free to go home. Although you assured Jay that you were fine to do things on your own, you were currently being carried around the manor to your old bedroom.

You couldn’t help but be amused by how worried he was for you. He practically spoon-fed you the hospital food during your stay, and you wondered if that would stop now that you were here. 

He gently placed you on the mattress and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I missed this place,” you whispered.

Jay smiled. He never particularly felt homely in his manor. It was given to him by his mother when he turned twenty, but it felt more like a place to get away from the stress of Olympus rather than a true sanctuary. That was until you came into his life. Wherever you left your presence was a home to him. 

He sat on the edge of the bed to place his palm on your stomach, checking for the bump. He’d made a consistent habit of that ever since he found out you were pregnant. He convinced himself that he could feel a slight raise to your belly, but in reality, a bump wouldn’t be formed for a few weeks. 

Lifting your shirt to your breasts, he leaned down to press a kiss to your stomach. His hair made your skin tickle and you began giggling. “You’re so odd, Jay.”

“I just want to kiss my babies,” he said jokingly. 

You knew in your head that once the baby was born, Jay would not be able to leave them alone. Your baby would probably get annoyed by how much he kissed them all over the face. You fawned over the thought. 

Then you remembered what you had failed to ask him last week. “What is going to happen to Aeri?”

Jay flinched at the sound of his mother’s name and his eyes darkened. He sat up and looked at you intently. “She’s in a holding cell as of now, given the severity of her crimes. The court date is in a couple of months, and until then she can’t leave.”

“Jake said that it’ll be hard to charge her with anything,” you said.

“That’s true. She has relationships with a ton of powerful people in Olympus, including those in law enforcement. Her corruption runs deep, but thankfully we have someone on our side as well,” Jay smiled unsurely.

“Who?”

“The mayor. My mother has never been in his good graces, but especially now, after what Jake showed him, he promised he would not let her get away with this. Besides, we have proof she’s been performing alchemy, and if the court accepts it, we’re talking a minimum of thirty years to life.”

Your breathing hitched. There it was then, your biggest threat was now gone. Your family would be safe, and so would you and Jay. You didn’t even know how to feel about it. 

You placed your hand on his forearm and looked up at him lovingly. You wanted to thank him for saving you and the city from her, but you knew he was still in the process of forgiving himself for letting her crimes go on for so long. 

You pulled him into an embrace, and he placed his head into your neck. Right as you felt him rest comfortably on you, you flipped yourself over and startled his hips. You were now sitting on top of him, your pelvis flushing against his, and a smirk plastered on your lips. 

“You look so beautiful underneath me,” you said. 

“Watch yourself, my love,” he replied through gritted teeth. His hands trailed up to your hips and he gripped them with intensity. You began grinding your cunt against his crotch slowly, looking at him with the eyes you always used to get what you wanted. It almost always worked, but now that Jay was paranoid about you getting hurt, he was ever so careful with you.

During the nights you spent at the hospital, you begged him to take you. He always said he’d wait until you were ready, and instead spent his hours with his face between your leg, sucking on your cunt until you saw stars.

As much as it felt nice, you wanted more. You wanted rough and passionate sex where he left love bites and slap marks all over your body. You wanted to get on your knees and worship his cock as a thank-you for all that he has done for you. You felt your panties dampen at the thought, and you continued pressing yourself against him.

“You promised me you’d fuck me,” you whispered.

“When I knew you were better. The doctor said you still need to be on bed rest for a few days. That means you’re still healing,” he said demandingly. The grip on your hips was tightening. 

“If you loved me you’d let me ride you.”

He chuckled, “Now you’re just being immature.”

“Is it working?” you grinned, sliding his shirt above his head and palming his abdomen. It felt so warm and rough under your palm. Sometimes you imagined what it would feel like to ride his abs, your clit rubbing against his ridges. 

You yelped as you felt his hand strike you in the ass. “How many times do I have to tell you, my love? You don’t make the rules in this relationship. I’ll fuck you when and where I want.”

“Is that so? ‘Cause ever since I met you, you act like my bitch.”

That seemed to snap something inside him as he swiftly flipped you over on your back. You whined at the loss of control. 

“I get what you’re trying to do, Y/N. You want me to punish you, but if I gave you what you wanted that wouldn’t be a punishment at all, would it?” He began taking off your lounge pants and panties. “You fucking whore, look at how wet you got already.”

He slapped the side of your ass one more, making your thighs clench at the mix of pain and pleasure. He continued, “Is that what you want? Do you want me to slap around my pregnant wife? Fuck you until your mind can barely function and the only word that you can still pronounce is my name?”

You moaned as you felt him begin to play with your clit, “Yes, sir. P-Please, do whatever you want with me. I won’t b-break.” 

“By the time I’m done with you, you will break.” You drooled at how enticing that sounded. You knew how nervous Jay was to go rough with you, but you’ve been so sexually frustrated you were becoming desperate, and you would press all his buttons if it meant he would let himself go.

Now, both of you were rid of your clothes. You placed your arms around your stomach, feeling vulnerable at the feeling of nakedness, but soon enough they were pinned above your head on the mattress. “Don’t act shy now, you were just begging to ride on my cock.”

Your face heated up at the reminder, and you looked at him desperately. Without warning, you felt his tip begin to spread open your folds. It had been so long since you’d felt his cock inside you, that it felt like electricity was running up your spine. 

He began rocking his hips into you. “S-So big,” you mewled. You knew all too well how massive Jay was, but now that he hadn’t fucked you in a few weeks, you felt a burn inside your cunt at the feeling of him stretching you open.

“You missed my cock, yeah? It’s been so long you can barely take me now,” he said in your ear. 

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and you felt yourself whine as he let go of your hands and sat up, thinking he was going to stop. He sucked his teeth, shaking his head in disappointment at your desperate state. “Be quiet before I make you,” he warned. 

He raised your legs to now be resting on his shoulders and leaned back down to keep plummeting his cock inside you. You were shocked at this new position where you were practically folded over. You could feel his cock so much deeper inside you, and it was practically mind-numbing. 

“I feel y-you so deep in-inside,” you mewled. Gods, you missed the feeling of his cock inside you. You felt so empty without him in your life, both literally and figuratively. 

“Your cunt feels like paradise,” he moaned.

The sounds of his groans in your ear were like the sounds of muses singing. He usually didn’t make a ton of noise while you two had sex, instead staying stoic and focused, but the time away from you seemed to have affected him similarly as it did to you. He felt as though he couldn’t last much longer inside you. 

Your walls clamped around his cock as you felt his tip kiss your cervix. No wonder you got pregnant so quickly when he fucked you like this. It was a surprise he hadn’t gotten you knocked up earlier. 

Jay hadn’t even been able to properly process the fact that his love and devotion to you led to you now bearing his child in your womb. The idea of starting a happy and loving family with you not only filled his heart with warmth but also sent blood rushing to his cock. If you asked, he’d give you however many children that you wanted.

“I love you,” you said shakily, still trembling from his rough thrusts inside your hole. Your body was becoming sore from the position it was in, and you could feel your orgasm coming closer. You wrapped your arms around his back, your nails leaving crescents and scratch marks on his bare back.

Jay placed a kiss on your temple, not seeming phased but the abuse on his back, and whispered, “I love you more.”

You supposed what you two were doing was too rough and intense to be considered making love, but you wanted to take the chance to remind him how much your heart soared for him. 

Your cunt tightened roughly around him as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Your jaw fell and your eyes rolled back at the intensity. 

Shortly after, he spilt himself inside you, coating your walls with his arousal. He pressed his forehead to yours gently, “So good for me, my love.”

“Mr. Park, there is somebody who is trying to enter the premises,” Minseo said hurriedly. 

“What?” Jay felt himself begin to panic. After all the shit he had to deal with earlier, he couldn’t handle the thought of you being in danger again. If there was an intruder, he wasn’t sure what he would do except kill him if he were to try and hurt you. 

“It appears to be your fiancé’s family. They have not said anything about visiting today, so I’m just not sure what you’d like us to do.”

Jay sighed in relief. Thank the Gods. 

“Open the gates, let them in,” he said. He looked over to see your eyes had been lit up and you abruptly stood up to begin running towards the main floor. He found it adorable how excited you were to finally see your sister and father but felt guilty not letting them see you earlier. 

He knew he should have called them while you were in the hospital, but was worried about the news getting out. The media had already gotten a hold of the fact that the CEO of Aphrodite was not him, and not his mother. The news of her going to jail sent a ripple through Olympian society, but as of now the details of why she was arrested were kept under wraps from the public.

He had thought if he said too much to the wrong people, the news about you would come out and he knew how much you wanted your private life to stay private. He didn’t want random people prodding around in your situation and treating it as though it were some drama. 

They were not going to be happy with the things he’d let happen to you, even if he was the reason why their family war was now over. 

When he finally mustered up the courage to face your family, he began to walk downstairs. He was nervous to face your father, but even twice as much, he was afraid to see how your sister reacted. He was convinced she would try to take you away from him and change your mind about forgiving him. 

The sight in front of him filled his heart with warmth. You were wrapped around the arms of your older sister and your father, a comforting and familial embrace. He was often envious of how loving your family was to you compared to how cold and isolating his household was. 

Karina’s arms were wrapped around your shoulders, and she held you as though you would fly away if she let you go. Just as he thought, when Karina opened her eyes and they laid on him, her expression turned to that of fury. 

Her heels clacked on the wooden floor as she walked over to him, and the sound of her palm landing on his cheek echoed through the walls. He could feel his ear ringing from the harshness of her strike. You gasped in shock, but he looked over at you comfortingly, assuring you that it didn’t hurt in the slightest bit, although he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up with a bruise on his face tomorrow. 

“I told you, bastard!” Karina screamed, her skin becoming red. “I swore that I would kill you if you let anything bad happen to her, so I’m done playing nice,” she pushed him against the chest, although frustrated at how he didn’t budge from his stance. “My sister was almost murdered and it’s all your fault.”

“Karina!” you tried to intervene, but neither your sister nor father could hear through their storm of anger. 

Your father did end up pulling Karina back from mauling Jay to death, but he didn’t look any happier. He sighed, “What on earth is my daughter still doing in your home, Park?”

“Well she’s my wife, so there’s that.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” your father pointed his finger accusatorially at Jay. “You broke off the wedding, I heard of it. Your family has caused me and my daughters never-ending pain, and you have the audacity to keep holding one of them hostage?”

“In case you forgot, if it weren’t for me, you both would be six feet under. I put Aeri in prison before you could do anything about it.”

“She’s your mother, your fucking blood,” Karina seethed. “Why should we think you’re any different than her? For all we know, you’re still the biggest threat to my sister, and I’m never letting you lay a hand on her again.”

“I love your sister. I’ve always loved her, so don’t for a day accuse me of wanting to hurt her.”

“If you cared about her so much, how did she end up in the palms of your mother?”

“Enough!” you cursed. Everyone’s heads spun towards your way, shocked at your harsh tone. “You are talking about me like I’m not in the room with you. Karina, he’s telling the truth. He is the reason why Aeri is no longer a threat, so please, listen to me.”

Karina huffed in annoyance but turned around to continue letting you speak. “I know you two don’t want to accept it, but I love Jay. I love him so much that when I was separated from him it felt like I was broken. If you don’t support it, I understand, but please believe me that Jay isn’t forcing me to do anything.”

Jay’s heartbeat quickened at your admission. After what his mother had done, he was now at the mercy of you constantly having to reassure him that you truly loved him.

“If we don’t support it?” your father asked appallingly. “I can’t even begin to understand what you mean, sweetheart. You didn’t even want to marry him in the beginning.”

“I don’t need you to understand, Dad,” you slowly walked up to your father and looked at him pleadingly. “I don’t want to choose between you and him. I know you think I’m making a mistake, but I trust Jay.”

“He killed a man in your house,” Karina barked.

“To protect me!” you retorted. 

Your father snapped his head to face Karina and asked, “What? Who hurt her? Why wasn’t I made aware of this?” Your heart fell as you realised that Karina probably didn’t tell your father not to worry him, given how little he could do to help you. 

Karina spoke up, “It was her old bodyguard. He assaulted Y/N and Jay ended up killing him. I admit, I would’ve done the same, but this doesn’t change what he has done.” The tone of Karina’s voice made you think that the only reason Jay was not dead was because of you. 

“You let a man in this house that hurt my little girl?” your father clenched his fists as though he was preparing to punch Jay slack across the jaw. 

Jay stared him down, not showing any sign of fear. “I will never stop apologising for letting that monster near her, nor will I forgive myself for allowing my mother to do what she did to her. I would walk the ends of this earth to atone for this, but it’s up to Y/N to forgive me, not you.”

You looked at him as though to say, I forgave you, baby. I forgave you a long time ago. 

“This is insane,” Karina said frustratingly. 

Your father sighed, sending a murderous glare towards Jay. “I suppose you’re right. If I had it my way, you’d have been in prison like your wretched mother, but I love my daughter.”

“Dad!” Karina said in shock. How could he just let this happen?

He looked over at you and placed a warm hand on your shoulder, eyes swimming in concern and worry, “If this bastard does even one more thing to jeopardise your safety, I can’t promise you I will hold back.”

Jay stood completely still, knowing in his head he was making the same threat to himself. He couldn’t imagine ever forgiving himself if he let one more thing hurt you. 

You nodded in understanding. Although your father was saying all this, he could feel the love between you two. Perhaps it’s why he was more accepting of the relationship than Karina, who had yet to experience a life-changing love like yours.  

“I’m going home,” Karina said through her clenched teeth. You walked up to her and wrapped your arms around her. You understood she would need some time to get over her distrust of Jay, so you didn’t want to make her more upset by arguing. She placed a gentle hand on your back, “I always have a room for you in my apartment, understand? I will be there for anything, just give me a call.”

You placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry for not calling earlier. I was supposed to be on bed rest, and I wasn’t sure where my phone was—,” you were cut off by the feeling of Karina lightly slapping your shoulder.

“You should be sorry,” she pouted, “Never leave me hanging like that. I couldn’t breathe for the last few days when I didn’t know what was going on with you.”

As Karina and your father began to leave, Jay called out to them. “You two should stay for dinner.”

You looked over at him, confused at his suggestion, but Jay just grinned warmly at you. If he was planning on marrying you for real this time, he needed your family to at least tolerate him. Surely both of you couldn’t have bad relationships with the in-laws, and he knew how much you loved your sister and father, so he placed his first step into his plan of getting closer to them. 

You were standing in front of the lush king mattress, unpacking all your vacation clothes and necessities. It had been two months since all the drama with you and Jay’s families, and he decided to take you on a summer trip to help forget everything, even if it was for a little while.

The island was hot, and the sand on the beach in front of your hotel room was pale and glistening. You had brought mostly loose summer dresses, partially because it was the most convenient thing to wear ever since your bump began to grow, as well as the fact that Jay always thought you looked delectable in floral sundresses. 

It probably helped that some of them were practically see-through, giving him a clear look at the swimsuits underneath. You smirked at the thought of making him struggle to contain himself throughout your trip. 

As you were about to take out your last bit of clothes, you felt a strong set of hands wrap around your waist. Jay brushed your head to the side and began placing pecks on the back of your neck. “Hi, my love,” he said.

Although he had told you the reason he wanted to take you here was to relax and forget the worries of your life, in actuality he thought of this trip as a pre-honeymoon, before your wedding. 

He had to remember that although you two were together again, and he still called you his wife, the state of your relationship wasn’t all too clear. 

He called off your marriage to give you the freedom to pursue something in the future, but now he knew you loved him, and he trusted that nothing would come between that. He wasn’t going to propose to you during the trip, as he wanted to wait and maybe get the blessing of your sister and your father which was probably going to take a while.

Either way, while you were lounging around, running around in the sun and swimming in the water, he had to make a plan on how to propose to you again. Properly this time.

[foursaints]

“I don’t care what [Barty] says, Dumbledore’s not stupid”: On Barty as Machiavel

i think we're all forgetting the moment where harry explicitly draws a parallel between barty & remus and i wrote the world’s longest post about it 

under a close reading, moody!barty operates in a manner that is SO distinct from canon!moody, and i think it’s made especially apparent in the way he interacts with students & the virtues he emphasizes in his lessons. even when disguised, barty has a machiavellian tendency that comes through consistently in several different moments. 

i think this quote is a weaker example, but “very tactful” is NOT something that would be used to describe canon!moody under any circumstances. c!moody’s lack of social tact is a known characteristic, and barty uses his tactless reputation to get away with his machinations (see: the dustbin excuse, breaking into snape’s office, even the ferret to an extent).

on the other hand, BARTY is clever and subtle and manipulative, and we see this coming through in how he handles neville. the biggest difference between him and c!moody is the way that barty!moody tends to openly value or praise Cleverness & Craftiness above more moody-ish virtues like bravery, loyalty, or Taking Care of His Students’ Safety… but i think the most interesting part of all this is the way that harry reacts to it.

the hp books notoriously do this clumsy thing where the morality is starkly Black/White (as ursula leguin rightfully criticized). but seemingly arbitrary categories like “gryffindor” or “slytherin” are also conflated with this strict Good/Evil dichotomy. which results in these random-ass traits like “brave 😎🦁” and “cunning 💀🐍” also taking on moral associations within the world of the text (jkr has also done this with physical traits & racial stereotypes, which is vile) 

but an overarching theme in hp is harry grappling with this dumbass in-world black/white morality & unlearning part of it (ex: snape, the epilogue w albus severus about slytherin). but i think it’s sooo interesting that one of the few characters (aside from snape & dumbledore) to demonstrate & valorize a machiavellian tendency AND be admired for it (by harry) is LITERALLY barty jr. 

like! barty’s tact is not a good thing in-canon! he uses his tact to get away with murder & torture & elaborate terrorist plots (he’s part of a group of death eaters described as having "managed to talk their way out of azkaban” p. 527) but i looove that the same trait which allows him to do all sorts of Dastardly Evil is cast as positive and remus-like in this moment. obviously i don’t think jkr was doing of this on purpose, but i love how these little things are unintentionally more compelling than whatever the hell she was trying to do with snape. and it goes deeper!!

this moment is especially telling of barty’s character, to me. subbing out the names, “I don’t care what [Barty] says… Dumbledore’s not stupid” is a CRAZY line. 

it’s lowkey THE barty!moody thesis in comparison to c!moody: nothing we’ve seen from c!moody would even remotely suggest that he’d EVER imply that dumbledore is stupid. (c!moody adopts the “it’s imperative that we blindly trust dd’s mysterious plans” attitude that most of the adults in harry’s life take, that hermione re-emphasizes here). but barty’s attitude is something that harry heavily fucks with in this moment!! 

that’s all i really have to say about The Implications or whatever. but i want to call more attention to moments in canon where barty’s tendencies shine through his disguise because (unlike most marauders characters) his personality is really fleshed-out. especially this aspect of it. my silly 

i. "mind works the right way, granger"

barty speaking about dumbledore like he’s stupid (💀) is enjoyable for several reasons up to & including how big-dicked it is of him, but most importantly i think it’s symptomatic of an overarching theme of his character. in GOF, barty has a tendency to take stock of the people around him, according to what appears to be a really concrete & consistent set of internal values: he values cleverness matched with a certain degree of ruthlessness. 

this bit with hermione is fun. there are about ~6-7 other instances where he praises cleverness, but that’s not really a unique or noteworthy thing to value? but the phrasing in this quote is my favorite. i know that it’s in reference to the skillset required of an auror, but the phrasing of “mind works the right way” can be applied to so much of barty’s character if you reach hard. i love that barty’s language almost casts the mind as something rote & mechanical which can function right or wrong. 

but anyway it only becomes interesting when placed in context of THIS earlier interaction: 

there are endless ways barty could have gone about guiding harry to use his firebolt here, so his specific phrasing holds a lot of weight to me. (keep in mind: he’s prompting harry to feel that he came up with the firebolt/accio idea, but this whole plan was concocted by barty himself much earlier. he’s on the “convince harry to do my broomstick dragon thing” step of his overarching scheme) 

in a sense, by “inspiring” harry to do what HE already independently decided was best, he’s sort of… giving away his own reasoning, a little? the italicized emphasis on enabling oneself to “get what you need” feels… unnecessary, in context? i love that THAT is where emphasis slips into his voice because it betrays his values. 

barty’s Revenge Scheme is insanely fucking convoluted, but at every stage i think that logic is there. in his villain monologue where he rehashes the deranged level of micro-managing he was doing to get harry to resurrect voldemort, at every individual step he was following his own advice. to barty, sometimes murder is just the Simplest Spell to Get What He Needs. 

according his own advice, barty sees the clearest path between two points, and generally has 0 ethical qualms about closing that distance by the Simplest means possible. he later confirms this by describing harry’s morality introducing complications as “contend[ing] with [his] stupidity” (676) 

ii. “good boy,” growled [barty]. “i can make good use of this…”

the scene where barty acquires the marauders map is CRAZYY.. for a moment, barty is so excited & taken aback that we see a few of his genuine reactions. i love that absolutely nothing manages to faze him EXCEPT genuine delighted shock over an interesting new tool he can implement in his schemes. (sidenote: he probably recognized the marauders’ nicknames, which is so funny)

that fact that we have a canonical barty crouch jr “good boy” makes me claw at the walls. anyway. i feel that i don’t need to explain how “i can make good use of this… this might be exactly what i’ve been looking for” supports characterization of barty as a scheming little machiavel because it’s pretty much explicitly stated right there. 

but this quote stands out for his genuine preoccupation with it. from the instant that barty sees the map, his eyes don’t leave it— his eye “whizzed over [it’s] surface” (491), he questions harry about how his name appeared when he searched snape’s office (”’Crouch,’ he said. ‘You’re— you’re sure, Potter?’” (491))— all while harry is sinking into a trick staircase & getting concerned that moody is ignoring him.

“penetrating glare” ← top barty rights! 

the image of him getting new information, questioning harry about it tactfully, and then spending A FULL MINUTE silently integrating it, is one of my favorite instances of him in the book… it’s like you can hear the gears in his head whirring. i like that we can see this type of assessment that he does extends to other people, when he turns it on harry and “size[s] him up”. 

AND ALL OF THIS IS WITHOUT EVEN GETTING INTO WHAT HIS LESSONS WERE LIKE

this post is long enough as it is! but all that’s left to say is that barty will always be at his most interesting when you pay attention to canon… there’s another longpost that could be written about barty!moody’s differences in disposition. the jokes he cracks, his relative lightness, and the sheer number of times he was openly like “FUCK the law i do what i want” (while literally masquerading as a literal wizard cop) are so intriguing. but that’s for another time 

[unhelpfulfemme]

Another thing I liked is how Laurent's trauma is handled, because usually when a character has a Secretly Traumatic Backstory there's some kind of annoyingly maudlin scene about it. Either they get into some kind of big conflict with the love interest and are forced to explain themselves so they don't get judged or dumped, or the love interest intrudes on a vulnerable moment and sees them being abused or somehow handling the consequences of that abuse, or they are explained the circumstances by a benevolent third party, and this changes their view of the abused character because now they're god's poorest meow meow and I just fucking hate it every time.

Like, this is why I stopped reading this type of story: because the amount of crowding and backing into a corner and privacy violation that happens to abused characters in order to coax them into opening up about it and reassure them that they're okay is so annoying. I feel like I've been psychologyposting on main too much lately, so I might explain later why I feel this way or I might not but in any case I hate it.

I love that this book is the literal opposite of that, that Damen not only doesn't crowd Laurent and insist that he open up, but that Damen ensuring space and privacy and time to calm down for Laurent when he's overwhelmed is repeatedly portrayed as an act of friendship and caring and love (that Laurent later reciprocates, because they both lose their heads when something pushes their buttons and understand this about each other).

I also love how Damen doesn't fall in love with Laurent because Laurent is sad and fucked up, or because he's so brave to have put up with the abuse, or because Damen too is sad like Laurent (I'm physically restraining myself from going off on a rant about how shared trauma is hardly ever a good foundation for a relationship): no, he falls in love with Laurent because he's whip-smart, and a good leader, and funny, and tender once he opens up, and a lateral thinker, and a man of integrity who keeps his promises and pays back his debts (and because he's pretty and blonde and good at sporty shit that Damen likes). Some of these things may have been shaped by the awful shit that happened to Laurent, as they were also probably shaped by his station or his education or his body type or any other circumstance of his life, but it's refreshing to have a character who went through awful shit but who also has other things going on for him that make him loveable instead of being completely defined by his trauma. And even when Damen finds out, the way he thinks about Laurent literally doesn't change at all - the things he likes about Laurent are still seen in the same light as always, Laurent's personality as a whole is still the same, even his attitude towards what Laurent did to him when they first met doesn't change much (as we see in the short story epilogue). And even this last bit is really cool because Laurent is never stripped of his agency or made out into some sort of helpless victim currently, both of which would probably mortify him with how much he's trying to establish that he's not at any opportunity.

And I also like how it's not necessary for Laurent to tell Damen about it in order for them to be close, nor does Damen push him into it. And everyone else seems to agree that it's Laurent's story to tell when and how he wants it told, except for the villain of the piece, who reveals it in the most awful way possible. This is particularly important because Damen spends three books grabbing everyone in Laurent's life by the shoulders and shaking them and going, "Why do you care about this guy??? Have you noticed that he's kind of an ashole?? Why are you loyal to him?? Why???" and no one ever says anything, because they're protective of Laurent and don't want to take away his agency or privacy because it's his fucking story to tell. Even after Damen finds out, we don't see him mention it and he probably lets Laurent open up or not on his own terms, as he does with everything else that doesn't directly concern him. Even though we've seen through Laurent's dialogue time and time again that he's probably conceptualizing it in some fucked up ways in his own head and needs yet to realize that he's not some kind of twisted pervert for what happened to him, crowding him about it before he's ready won't accomplish much.

And the story itself backs all this by never being maudlin about it even though it's obvious what happened pretty early on (I figured it out really early, I remember suspecting it almost immediately and being dead sure of it by the Ancel scene in the garden); it kind of elipses around it, gives hints and parallels to other characters in similar circumstances, has Laurent say incoherent shit that makes sense in context, has other characters hint at it, but with Laurent being one of the central characters it's cool that the story gives him that respect and doesn't wallow in the tragedy of it all.

[sunderwight]

had a thought of what if Airplane had leaned a little more into the self-insert idea for Luo Binghe when he was still at the early stages of writing, with an end result that Luo Binghe actually Looks Like That because he basically looks like Airplane but with long flowing hair and a more idealized figure

SQQ going "why the fuck did you make his face so pretty???" and Airplane bullshitting about plausibility while trying really hard not to blush. twisting his fingers and scuffing his toe like jeez bro he's not that good-looking...

which of course sets SQQ off because how DARE!?! not 'that' good-looking?!?! just look at him! he's xianxia Helen of Troy with a face that launched a thousand harems! like okay sure with looks like that it does make sense that half the female population was willing to timeshare a marriage with him, but it's also totally unfair to SQQ, who has no recourse against those looks either! and who could? that is the most beautiful face ever!

Airplane's getting flustered. tries valiantly to make the case that objectively speaking Luo Binghe isn't that good-looking, it's just that SQQ is biased, but boy does that not go over well. SQQ has hitched the tattered remnants of his self-perception as a straight man onto the idea that Luo Binghe is just so devastatingly attractive anyone would want to hop into bed with him, and he is not letting go of it, so Airplane is just gonna get wrecked with inadvertent compliments

bonus if the Shang Qinghua look is actually the result of several illusions because when Airplane first transmigrated in, he got the same face too, and foresaw potential problems if the half-demon protagonist turned up looking like him. so he used illusions. he doesn't actually look all that different, in fact! the illusions just make it so that when people see him, they get a strong impression that he's unremarkable, so they don't really register what his face actually looks like and their brains fill in the assumption that he must just be kinda plain

oooh ooh double bonus if the system inserted a behind-the-scenes explanation for it too, which is that Shang Qinghua is actually unwittingly related to Su Xiyan!

and the whole thing comes to light post-epilogue when Shang Qinghua's illusions get stripped away by some monster-of-the-week, while everyone except Mobei Jun has a freak out about why do you look just like Luo Binghe?! (Mobei Jun isn't freaking out because he already figured out how to see past the illusions and just assumed everyone else wasn't mentioning it for some human cultural reason or something) and then Yue Qingyuan calmly explains that Luo Binghe's mom is Shang Qinghua's matrilineal cousin. Shang Qinghua's mother and Luo Binghe's human grandmother were half-sisters.

what? how does Yue Qingyuan know? you think that Cang Qiong doesn't check up on the candidates for the peak lord positions before handing off power, doesn't make sure there are no conflicts of interest or divided loyalties to other sects? what sorts of things do people imagine Qiong Ding's diplomats do? (I don't know either but, for the purpose of this scenario at least some of it is tracking down this stuff -- YQY handled most of it personally for his generation's ascension because he didn't want anyone else digging into his and Xiao Jiu's pasts) anyways, the connection could have been troublesome for its ties to Huan Hua Palace, but by the time it came to light Su Xiyan was deceased and there was no evidence that Shang Qinghua had ever even met her. so it wasn't deemed significant enough to matter, was just made note of and then mostly forgotten

so Shang Qinghua is like "oh THAT is why you kept bringing her up to me back then?!" because at the time he'd just been fully in "haha how would I know anything about the impending plot and the tragedies I am both partly responsible for and powerless to prevent haha that's so funny shixiong I KNOW NOTHING" mode, which luckily at the time was easily read as him just not wanting a dead cousin he never met to tank his chances of securing a promotion

SQQ is floored. he is having issues about this. Shang Qinghua is related to Binghe? Shang Qinghua looks exactly like him?! wait. Binghe has human family? still alive? like grandparents and stuff out there, who might want to meet him...?

Luo Binghe decides to step in at that point because he does not want to meet any more relatives! no more surprise relatives! no!

luckily this distracts Shen Qingqiu from thinking about all of the things he's said to Airplane about Binghe's looks for long enough for Shang Qinghua to flee the scene

[lateatnewyork]

Black roses

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Epilogue?

Helion x reader, Azriel x ex!reader, Rhysand x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, elain slander (i love elain but the plot asked for it)

Summary: In which you are finally introduced to the inner circle again, this time as High Lady of Day Court.

a/n i wrote this with an eyelash stuck in my eye so spare me 😭 🙏

I was getting ready to go to the Night Court. My outfits usually were a signature midnight black but after staying at Day Court for so long, I had learned to love the soft yellows and the striking golds. Hell I had decided to wear a golden dress as a homage to the Day Court.

It was a beautiful corset top dress, that flowed down like a waterfall. The slit was just an added benefit.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” A voice came from behind me.

Giggling, I turned around left a peck on Helion’s lips, but apparently that wasn’t enough, as he pulled me in for a deeper kiss.

His hands gently held my head, while my hands left his hair and raked over his bare chest.

“Helion, we can’t do this now” I say breathless as I pull apart. Hands at my waist held me tightly against his body.

“And put a shirt on” I finally escape his grasp and head over to fix up my face.

Helion winnows us away after we’re ready. Standing outside Rhysand’s court, we’re about to head in when Helion pulls me flush against his chest.

“I love you, and I’m so proud of you, if you feel uncomfortable the just squeeze my hand three times and we’ll leave,”

I kiss his lips and whisper a small “Thank you,” against them.

Just as we’re about to pull away, Rhysand shows up.

“Sister, Helion, if you’re ready?” he smiles, Rhys was the first person to know about us and currently is one of the few outside of Day who knew.

My cheeks flush at Helion’s smirk and push myself off him, “Yes we are,”

Walking in, I can feel their eyes on me. Shit this was scarier than expected.

Helion places a reassuring hand against my back. I give a soft smile to everyone.

Everyone except them. Elain and Azriel. I don’t even look at them, stopping at Cassian.

The men discuss about matters if court and alliances. While Feyre, Nesta and I catch up.

We were deep in a conversation about how we should visit each other often, when Elain decided to open her mouth.

“So what did you do to get a High Lord’s attention surely you’re not that good in bed” she sneers.

My blood freezes. Helion goes to open his mouth but I give him a look and speak through our bond. “I can handle this”.

“I know you can but if you need me I’m right here” he assures.

Simply nodding, I continue my conversation with Nesta about the newest book. Feyre had gone to fetch Nyx. Apparently he had missed me and wouldn’t talk to anyone except glare at Elain.

“I knew it, you’re such a slut,” she says loudly.

This time all chatter freezes, and the loud bang of the door indicates that Feyre is here. With Nyx.

For the sake of the little boy, I ignore her again. Reaching out to carry him. He cracks a smile and babbles while grabbing my hair softly. Giggling at his attempt to tell me a story, I sit down with him in my lap.

Unbeknownst to the longing stares from Azriel, the hateful glares from Elain and the look of adoration on Helion’s face.

Soon enough he tires out and falls asleep.

“She obviously used her mind control powers or whatever to get him to calm down,” Elain scoffs.

I go to finally respond when two loud voices bellow across the room.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rhysand and Helion’s voices were powerful enough alone. Together they could bring someone to their knees.

“That’s my sister, you’re talking about,”

Elain’s eyes widen at the confrontation from Rhysand.

“She is the High Lady of Day Court and you will treat her as such,” Helion commanded.

“You know I told Rhysand to give you a chance at some sort of redemption but you truly are self conceited,” this time it was Feyre’s voice.

My head snaps upward. “Whatever, all Day Court people are the same,”.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I question. My voice is deathly low and sharp enough to cut her.

“It’s just that Day Court men are just pretty things to look at and the women are just objects to be used,” she explains.

I hand Nyx to Feyre.

“You can speak ill about me all you want but bringing my people and the women from my court who work harder than you have ever worked in your entire life was a mistake,” I warn.

“You have been handed your life on a silver platter, forced your sisters to give you everything they deserve. Did you know Nesta was so worried about you when you were Made that she couldn’t eat or sleep,”

“No you didn’t because you’re just a self conceited, backstabbing bitch who would be nowhere without us. So go ahead insult me but just know that I can have you thrown in deepest cell in Hewn City and trust me someone like you wouldn’t survive a minute in there.” With every single word I took a step closer towards her.

Seeing her say nothing, I walk off towards Helion.

“Go run home with your bitch of a man then,” she calls out from behind me.

Turning around I punch her nose in one swift motion.

She falls to the floor and Nyx decides to wake up and he starts clapping and laughing. Smiling, I head towards him and pick him up and give him a little kiss on the cheek.

I walk towards where Rhysand, Helion, Cassian and Azriel were standing.

“I’m really sorry Y/N-” Azriel starts.

I kick him in between the legs, “That’s for marrying another girl while being my fiancée,”.

He doubles over in pain and I take that as an opportunity to punch his face, “And that’s for giving her my wedding dress”

“You are free to visit us in Day Court whenever you want,” I say just as Helion winnows us back.

He presses me against the bedroom door, “That was so hot,”.

“Really? Why don’t you show me how much you liked it then?”

a/n so um the argument might be bad but in my defence i’m not the type to involve myself in conflict like fight or flight best believe i’m flighting

lemme know if you want a lil epilogue for helion and reader

“glory is fine revenge is more fun” IF YOU KNOW WHERE THIS JS FROM ILY MARRY ME 💍

taglist: @esposadomd@impossibelle@acotarfics-mharmie009@stqrgirlies-blog@balam-sen@cumuluscranium@witchymomfrien@historygeekqueen@wallacewillow0773638@wickedfelinaxo@mybestfriendmademe@to-be-written@highladyofterrasen98@minnieoo

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xx

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: R's Dad gets wind of the plan. He's less than thrilled.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Mention of sex, mention of violence.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: sorry bbys, i know i've been MIA. just enjoying the summer, but I'm back for a new chapter! as always, thanks for all the love and let me know what you think!!

Several orgasms later - when you’re a sweaty, ruined mess underneath Tara’s body, you hear the murmur of voices and the front door slam closed.

Sam’s finally had enough, you think, a little sleepily. Her indignant request for the two of you to keep quiet had only made Tara fuck you harder. She’s annoying like that. And what had been Sam’s loss had been your gain.

Or so you had thought.

There’s a rumble against the floorboards downstairs. Boots, the owner heavy-footed. Sam’s voice - distant, a little apprehensive. And then you hear your Dad.

Deep, like thunder.

He sounds pissed.

“Tara, get off me,” You murmur, suddenly. She’s pressing you down into the mattress, lips on your neck, fingers wandering somewhere you definitely don’t need right now.

You sit up slightly, pulling her up with you.

“But I’m not done with you yet.” She says, eyes dancing as she pulls away from your neck.

She pushes you back into the bed, hard, taking your hands and pinning them over your head. You resist. Your Dad’s steps hit like lightning against the staircase.

“Babe,” You insist, “I’m serious, my Dad is home.”

She quells your fears with a kiss. Nips at your bottom lip.

“He’ll knock, babe, relax.” She assures.

She tilts your head to her lips, but you withdraw.

Panic surges through you.

You hear your Dad’s footsteps on the staircase. You wrench your hands out of her grip and reach for your t-shirt.

Your Dad doesn’t knock. You’ve known it for eighteen years and he certainly is going to stop it now. You pry your t-shirt over your head.

“Clothes, Tara. Now.” You hiss.

She rolls her eyes, but reaches for her own shirt.

But it’s too late. You hear the door click as the handle turns and then the bedroom door bursts wide open.

Your Dad stands, eyes wild, frightening as he looks over at you.

Tara gasps, and tugs the sheets over her body.

“Ever heard of knocking, dude?” She asks, cheeks red, in a rare moment of embarrassment.

Your Dad blinks.

The anger dissipates; he’s startled, like you in bed with Tara was the last thing he expected.

“What the hell is going on here?” He hisses, eyes wide with indignation. He flits between you trying to tug your shirt over your head and Tara pulling the sheets up to her neck. He looks outraged.

“Are you having sex?” He splutters. His eyes might bulge out of his head.

“No, we’re playing twister,” Tara says, voice dry, “Of course we’re having sex, what does it look like?”

She, as always, knows how to twist the knife.

You’d tell her to shut up, but your words - along with a piece of your soul - have died. Shock, embarrassment flood through you.

Rage explodes across your Dad’s face.

His chest heaves. He looks as though he might tackle her. You grip her hand, looking between them.

“Just give us one sec, Dad, we’ll be dressed in a minute.”

He takes a breath. Swallows hard.

Silence fills the room for a single, brutal second.

And then he’s blinking over at you, the rage simmering into a steady swell.

“Downstairs.” He tells you, his voice low, “One minute.”

He pauses, eyes flickering with disgust.

“And put some god damn clothes on.”

-

You briefly consider escaping out the window.

Taking Tara with you - with any luck you’d never have to look your Dad in the eye again. The thought of him tearing Woodsboro apart to find you again has you reluctantly pulling your jeans back on and helping Tara into hers.

“No talking back,” You say, lip between your teeth as you button her pants, “I mean it Tara. Say as little as possible, please. Let me do the talking.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” She grumbles. Her cheeks are still tinted pink. You kiss her cheek, rub her hip. She’s cute when she’s embarrassed, but you save that thought for later.

Right now you have bigger problems.

Your Dad is wildly pacing when the two of you come downstairs. Sam looks over at the two of you, offers Tara an appraising I told you so glare, but your focus isn’t on her. You chew your lip, settle into the sofa with Tara at your side.

“Sorry, daddy,” You say, voice small, “We thought you’d be at work a little longer.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, you know it the moment it leaves your lips.

Your Dad whirls around, eyebrows knit almost comically. Deep, angry frown lines mar his face.

“Where do I even begin?” He asks, eyes flashing, “The arrest? The murder? Setting up Ghostface? What the hell has been going on and why wasn’t I told?”

“Dad, please, calm down-“ You start but the look in his eyes quietens you.

“Not to mention the sex?” He thunders as if it’s even vaguely comparable to the others. He points a beefy finger at Tara, “You spent the morning in jail for multiple murders.”

The finger turns to you.

“You spent the morning committing manslaughter. And then the two of you decided to come home and what? Celebrate?”

His face turns red, “With underage fornication?”

Tara can’t help herself.

“It’s not underage sex, we’re both eighteen-“

“Quiet.” He snarls, “We’ll start with you - Sheriff Hicks arrested you this morning. For six murders.”

“That was a mistake,” Interjects Sam, “Sheriff Hicks got it wrong. The culprit was caught. He’s…. in custody.”

“In custody?” Your Dad says, “He’s dead. And the Sheriff tells me it was my daughter who did it.”

His fingers flex, menacingly. He’s scary like this. You’ve always been aware of his temper, walked on eggshells to please him, but this is something different.

Something terrifying.

“He attacked us at the school, I had no choice.” You say, voice small. Tara’s arm snakes around your waist. She squeezes your hip, gently.

“You had no choice?” Says your Dad, taking a step closer, “You arranged it. The Sheriff told me everything. The plan. The guns. You walked in there knowing you were going to take his life. It was calculated. And you didn’t tell me a fucking thing. How dare you.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Says Tara. Your Dad isn’t the only one with a temper, but Tara’s is much, much worse. If he invokes The Rage, there isn’t much you can do to stop it.

You grip her hand, trying to signal for her to back down.

“I’ll talk to my own child how I please,” Your Dad sneers, “And as for you? You want to tell me why the Sheriff suspected you so much she had you hauled off in handcuffs?”

“Because she got it wrong,” You say, “Dad, are you even listening?”

He’s quiet a moment. His eyes swell. He looks the way he did like the first time you had told him you didn’t need him to push you on the swings anymore. Or the time he’d found out you’d had your first kiss with Aaron, or when you’d bought Tara home for the first time.

He looks devastated. Betrayed.

“You never told me you were having sex,” He says, voice hoarse.

You swallow.

“Dad, that’s - a little too uncomfortable of a conversation to have, don’t you think?”

“I thought you were a good girl. I thought you had values.” He looks distraught. So much so, that you almost feel bad.

“Dad… I’m eighteen, it’s not like I’m a kid anymore,” you say, voice slow, “And Tara and I have been dating for two years. I figured you just… knew.”

Clearly, he didn’t.

If anything, the sex has wounded him more than the murder you’d just committed.

“You’re a Christian girl,” He says, voice insistent, “We raised you Christian. I thought that would mean something. I thought you were a virgin.”

Tara can’t help herself; she snorts.

You dig a sharp elbow into her side, but it’s too late. Your Dad’s eyes flash with fury and embarrassment and grief and before you can even blink he’s reaching over to grab Tara by the arm.

He yanks at her, hard, pulling her up like she’s a rag doll.

You scream out, trying to draw your body between his and hers but Sam gets there first.

She shoves him back, hard as she can and steps between them, her eyes flashing.

Looking wounded, Tara rubs at her arm, face flashing with aggravation. There’s an angry red handprint blooming on her. You pull her back, behind you, wrapping your arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t touch her, don’t you dare touch her.” Sam snarls.

Your Dad breathes out, chest heaving. He glares at Tara, and if you and Sam weren’t between them, you really think he might try and hit her.

It’s a sobering thought. And suddenly all you need is to get her out of here.

“We’re going to go.” You say, voice a little shaky, “Me, Sam and Tara are going, Dad. Until you calm down.”

His eyes flash.

You grip Tara a little harder.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He growls, “These two - they can go. They’re trouble. I want them out. But you?”

He points a finger at you.

“You’re grounded. You’re not leaving the house, as of now. Mom will home school you, you’re not seeing the rat-pack of delinquents you call friends again. And you’re breaking up with her, right now.”

Your heart thuds.

Your Dad’s face is brazen. Serious.

But so are you.

“No.” You say, drawing your shoulders back.

“No?”

“No. I’m eighteen, I can’t be grounded. You can’t tell me who my friends are and you certainly can’t stop me from seeing Tara.”

Your Dad slams his hand against the table. A cup shatters to the ground. You flinch.

“She’s been arrested for murder, YN.” He says, voice fraught. He blinks at you, desperate for you to understand, “And you might believe that she’s done nothing wrong but the Sheriff arrested her for a reason. Between that and the-”

He shudders.

“The fornicating. No. You’re not seeing her anymore. I won’t allow it.”

Sam stands up, hands raised. She looks furious, but there’s something in her voice. Like she’s trying to be the voice of reason.

“Sir - please. I know you’re upset but trying to stop them from seeing each other isn’t the right way-“

“You will not see her!” Screams your Dad, “The Sheriff thinks there’s something wrong with her. That she was in it with Richie. And I saw it, right from the start. There’s something wrong with her, YN. That girl is-“

“That girl is my sister, and I’d watch what you were saying if I were you.” Sam says, voice sharp.

“We’ll go,” Says Tara, rubbing your back. She stands a little straighter, “But YN is coming with us. I'm not leaving without her." 

“Dad, I’m going.” You say, voice stern, “And if you try to stop me I’ll call the police myself. I’m eighteen, you have no right to keep me here like a hostage.”

There’s a vein on your Father’s forehead that looks like it might burst. You’ve never seen him like this before: bubbling with fury and fear and desperation. He’s acting irrational.

Crazy.

And you don’t want to be here a minute longer.

“We’re going,” Sam repeats for you. She still has her hand raised, as if she’s afraid he might lunge at Tara at any given moment, “Okay?”

It’s not okay, clearly.

But your threat of calling the police seems to work.

He swallows. Face still red.

He swears at you.

Calls you ungrateful. Smashes another glass against the floor.

But then he leaves.

And before he can change his mind, you’re gripping onto Tara for dear life and leading her out the front door.

-

Sam drives.

You sit in the back seat, head against Tara’s shoulder, inspecting the red hand marks on her forearm.

Your Dad got angry sometimes, sure, but he’d never physically hurt anyone before. He could have killed her right there, you could tell by the look in his eyes, if you and Sam hadn’t been there to intervene.

You press your lips to the mark, heart aching at the thought your own Father had been the one to hurt her.

“You couldn’t have waited a couple more hours before you jumped each other?” Sam asks, voice wry.

She peers into the backseat just in time to catch the flash of indignation across Tara’s face.

“Way to victim-blame, Sam,” Tara says, crossing her arms, “We were just fucking. He was acting like we were dissecting live cats together or something.”

“I thought he knew we were having sex,” You say, absent-mindedly, “What kind of couple is together for two years without having sex?”

“Mormons,” Tara says, her nose wrinkled, “Or your parents, maybe.”

You roll your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter, now.” You say, a little nervous as Sam pulls into the driveway of hers and Tara’s house, “What matters is we get this place safe and secured before we go to bed tonight.”

Tara squeezes your thigh.

Sam gets to work immediately.

She gets her drill out, installing new locks on each of the doors. Tara hides the knives, holsters a small pistol around her waist.

They both look hot.

You keep that thought to yourself and watch Tara as she leans over and reaches for Sam’s drill. She bites her lip as she drills the hinge into place and then turns and catches your gaze.

“What?” She asks, small smile on her face.

“Nothing,” You say, voice coy as she moves over and snakes her arms around your waist, “You just look sexy doing that, that’s all.”

“I look sexy drilling a hinge into the door?” She teases. She presses a kiss to your lips.

You bite your lip and look over at Sam. She’s picking up the drill and then traipsing off into the next room.

“I want you to drill me into the door.” You say, voice low.

Tara’s eyes spark.

Then you hear Sam groan from the other room.

“Again?”

Your cheeks flush red. Tara laughs.

You smack her gently, then nuzzle your head into her neck.

Tara presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m going to finish up these doors,” She says, voice light, “And then I’ll drill you into anything you want, baby.”

You half consider dragging her up the stairs and taking her up on that promise. The adrenaline from the day is manifesting in some particularly horny ways. You don’t know if it’s the fear, or the shock but all you can think about is Tara and how much you want her.

But before you can so much as kiss her, the doorbell is ringing.

Sam peers back into the room, frown on her face.

“If that’s your Dad-” She begins, but you cut her off, miles ahead of her.

If it is your Dad, the last thing you need is Tara around.

You shake her off, worry overtaking your expression.

“I’ll get rid of him,” You say, hurriedly, “Baby, stay here.”

But when you make your way to the door, and swing it open, it isn’t your Dad standing there.

You frown. Clutch at the door a little tighter.

“Sheriff Hicks?” You ask, a little confused. She’s standing with her hat in her hands, looking nervous. More nervous than you’ve ever seen her.

And this is the third time you’ve seen her today, and in all honesty, you’d rather not see her again for a few weeks, at the very least. 

You’ve had your fill of her.

“YN,” She says, peering behind you. She wrings her hands, “Samantha Carpenter, is she here?”

You frown, a little confused.

You feel Tara come up behind you, press her hands to your hips. You don’t need to look at her to tell she’s less than pleased to see the woman who’d arrested her standing on her doorstep.

“Sheriff,” Tara drawls, shoulders tight, “Here to arrest anymore innocent people?”

The Sheriff ignores her. She looks to you.

“May I come in?” She asks.

“No.” Says Tara, arms crossed.

The Sheriff falls silent. Her eyes flit between yours and Tara’s. She looks grave. Like she’s seen a ghost.

“I’m not here to arrest anyone,” The Sheriff says. She sounds serious, “I just need to speak with Sam. It’s about Richie.”

“Richie?” His name draws Sam out from the kitchen.

The Sheriff nods.

“If I could just come inside-”

“You’re not coming inside my house,” Tara says, voice sharp, “Tell Sam whatever you want about Richie, and then leave. Please.”

The Sheriff looks like she wants to argue. But then her shoulders drop. She takes a deep breath and looks Sam right in the eye.

“He’s gone.”

Sam blinks.

“I know, Sheriff,” She says, voice slow, “I was there, remember?”

The Sheriff shakes her head.

“No, Sam. He’s gone. As in we can't find him anywhere.” 

[psithurista]

approach shift - epilogue

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 2.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: PIV (protected), sneaky little non-descriptive pegging reference, disGUSting fluff

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: I'll keep it quick: I'm so sorry this took so long, but I just wasn't quite ready to finish it off haha. It's been two years almost to the day since I started writing this (and they've been fucking crazy years) so it feels very strange saying goodbye to these adorable losers. I once again can't even start to express how happy it's made me seeing your reactions to this fic, and I'm endlessly grateful to everyone who took the time to leave a comment or reach out to say hi. I hope you like this last sweet little snippet! x

series masterlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

“We need to get up,” you say, making no move to do so.

He turns his face from where it’s smushed into the pillow to speak, his eyes still closed. “You first.”

You groan. 

You have no idea what time it is, and your phone is out of reach, but the light through the curtains is blinding like near-noon and Bear’s supposed to be here at 10 to pick you up, so you’re almost definitely cutting it fine.

“Peter.” Your legs are tangled with his, his thigh between yours. He huffs morning breath sleepily into your face in response, reaching a hand out to pat your cheek. 

“Shh.” He shifts, pressing his thigh harder between your legs, skin sticky on skin. You know he’s doing it on purpose; he knows exactly where he’s pressing you. You make a quiet, satisfied noise, then pull away regretfully. 

“Bear’s gonna be here soon and you need to be dressed. She’ll freak if she has to see your ass again.” 

“Mmm. Yeah. I’m up.”

You sit up, and the slow weight of his arm slides off your waist. The bedroom door is open to the living room where you can see the debris left over from your at-home date the night before: the bowl still on the couch with a handful of unpopped kernels still rattling in the bottom, the fairy lights web-stuck across the ceiling still glowing gently and the blown-out candles stuck in pastel wax puddles to the coffee table you’d rescued from the curb a few weeks after moving in together. It’d been unbearably funny watching Peter’s elaborate performance of pretending to struggle under the weight of it on the way back home.

He drags himself out of bed, and you hear the coffee machine gurgling while you start pulling out clothes.

It’s hot and stuffy; the air’s stopped working again sometime in the night, so you screech the window open and prop the broom handle under the frame to keep it there. It’s a precarious solution—more than once, the window’s fallen shut while you’ve been at work, forcing Peter to awkwardly perform a frantic outfit change behind the dumpster in the alley so he doesn’t run the risk of running into one of your neighbours in the elevator. But the rent’s affordable for a pair of research scientists with a dash of supplementary freelance photography cash on the side, and the occasional bags of free food from a grateful shop owner after a thwarted hold-up.

“Should we call about the air?” you wonder out loud through the open door.

 “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be quicker if I just get up on the roof and fix it again myself,” Peter says, his voice stretching out into a yawn halfway through. He appears in the bathroom doorway, still naked, two mugs in his hands. 

You gasp in appreciation as he passes one to you. “God, I love you,” you murmur, taking a sip.

He grins dazedly at you in the mirror, his cheeks flushed. “Is that all it takes, huh? A crappy cup of coffee?”

You turn and slide the mug onto the counter so you can wrap your arms around his waist. “No. You’re cute, too. That helps.”

He kisses you, his thumb and index finger framing your chin. “M’not cute,” he says against your lips, leaning his too-warm body along yours. “M’intimidating as hell. Ask anybody.”

You’d only gotten as far as underwear before he’d interrupted you dressing, and it already feels like there’s far too much in the way between you. “You’re gonna make me late,” you say, reaching down to dig your fingers into the taut swell of his ass. “Gotta get ready.”

“Okay, so keep getting ready,” he says, mouthing at your neck. “You’re the one groping me.”

He’s right; now you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop. You press your hands to the small of his back, drawing him closer. You can feel his cock beginning to harden where his body is pressed against yours, and his tongue comes out to touch at your pulse. He makes a tiny noise in his throat as you slip one hand down between your bodies to wrap loosely around his rapidly-growing erection.

You stroke him once, gently, and he huffs. “I don’t see how this is helping,” he says. 

You hum your response, your resolve melting away as he strokes the back of his knuckles down your spine, making you shiver. “Maybe…” you say.

He ducks his head to kiss first one breast, then the other, your nipples standing hard and sensitive. “Maybe?” he prompts. His fingers brush your hip, coming around to rest just below your navel.

“Maybe, if we’re quick…” you say, biting your lip, pushing your hips upward to try to encourage his hand lower.


“Babe, I can be so quick,” he says, half-groan, half-laughter. He thumbs your labia, spreading you open just a little, so he can touch your clit. “Too quick, even, if you want. Some would say it’s a talent.”

You grin at him, letting go of his cock. “Bed. Now.”

He swings you up into his arms so fast your head spins, practically flinging you onto the bed. 

You sprawl out in front of him, your arms thrown back as he peels your underwear off. “Holy shit,” he says, running his hands down your sides, staring at the expanse of your body. His jaw is slack with longing, and the sight of his adoration never fails to make fresh heat flood your face, even after seeing him staring at you like this so many times.

He kneels down over you, sucking two fingers into his mouth as he does. You hitch your knees up to give him a better angle, and he gently presses a firm thigh between your legs. “How do you wanna…?”

“Condom,” you tell him, running your fingers through his hair, making his eyes roll closed with pleasure. “No mess.”

He holds your lower lip gently between his teeth, and slowly pushes his two slick fingers inside you. You shift your hips up, and he withdraws them both again, using the slip of your arousal to work against your clit. He kneels up a little, so he can palm your breast with his other hand as he bends down to lick the inside of your thighs.

“Oh,” you breathe. His fingers stop circling to push back inside you, just as his tongue works a hot, messy kiss over your clit. You grab handfuls of his hair to try to keep up with the pace he’s setting, but the feeling of your fingers against his scalp only makes him work faster, a weak groan vibrating down through his tongue.

He bends his head lower, so he can lick around where your wetness has started to gather on his knuckles as he keeps pumping leisurely, in and out. It’s so wet you can both hear it, and he works faster, angling his fingers higher, until you’re writhing.

“Peter…come on, please,” you beg, yanking hard at his hair. 

It works to break his concentration, and he scrambles up, leaning down sideways so he can dig around in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. It’s filled with an assorted mix of toys and, stashed further back, Peter’s wrist canisters. The logic had been that anybody who broke into your apartment would be too freaked out by the toys to keep looking in the drawer, but it also meant Peter had to dig through a dizzying array of plugs and lube every time he went out.

You turn your head to the side and see the wistful way he glances at your strap-on, and you click your tongue. “We’re in a hurry, remember? Later.”

“Mmm. I’ll hold you to that,” he says, kissing you again as he rolls the condom smoothly over his cock.

He leans back, propping a pillow under your hips to give himself more leverage. As he sinks inside you, you hold your breath, letting it out slowly.

He groans above you, easing just a millimeter out and then back in, like he can’t help himself. It feels devastatingly good; he’s thick and beautifully hard right against where you need him, and thanks to his mouth, you’re wet enough that you’re ready for him to start moving immediately.  

You hook your ankles together behind his back to pull him in deeper, and he sinks home, fully seated balls-deep inside. You clench your muscles, just to feel as much of him as you can, and he grinds his hips against yours. 

You can feel the tension in his limbs as he draws back and starts to move. You’ll never, ever get sick of how he feels inside you, you think, your mouth open. He’s fucking you so good; his strokes long and firm and perfect.

He cups your ass with his hand to lift your hips even further, shifting the angle once again, and your breath stutters sharply in your throat as the head of his cock catches your g-spot.

“That’s it, right?” he murmurs, his voice wrecked. “Right there? That’s it, babe, c’mon, show me, I wanna see…”

You can’t even respond, your fingers gripping his biceps like his body is your only lifeline. It’s so good, and you’re getting so close, you just need…

“Fuck,” you gasp, high-pitched and panicked as you come, hard and blinding. 

He doesn’t slow down. If anything, he fucks you harder, chasing down his own release as you clench and melt around him. It only takes a few more moments before his cock jerks inside you and he curses, collapsing the hot weight of his body on yours.

You pant together, sweaty and spent. His cheek is crushed to yours, and he turns his face just enough to kiss any part of you he can reach—the top of your shoulder, your forehead, the tip of your ear.

When you manage to drag your eyes open, you find his huge doe-brown eyes already looking at you. “Good?” he whispers, kissing your shoulder again.

You smile at him, feeling drunk and dizzy. “So good,” you tell him.

You’re still wrapped up in each other like idiots when he jolts hard as though startled. You’re confused for about half a second, before the buzzer from downstairs goes off. 

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, scrambling out of bed.

“You get ready,” Peter says, somehow already dragging on a pair of sweatpants. The speed and dexterity with which he’s able to dress never ceases to amaze you. “I’ll stall.”

You’re stepping out of the fastest shower of your life when you hear the squeaky door to your apartment opening.

“Hey, Bear,” Peter’s voice says.

“Hey, Parker. Your shirt’s inside-out,” she says. 

You lean the naked top half of your body around the bathroom door to wave at her. “Hey, sorry, I just got out of the shower. I need like, three minutes to get dressed.”

She clicks her tongue, but doesn’t look overly annoyed as she flops onto the couch. “It’s hot as shit in here,” she says cheerfully, swinging her feet up onto your coffee table. 

You can hear her and Peter chatting as you hurriedly get ready; he asks her about Krista, she asks him about his aunt. Unsurprisingly, Bear and May had hit it off in a huge way at your birthday after May had excitedly demanded to know everything about the play Bear was auditioning for.

You give yourself a quick once-over to make sure you look presentable before you duck out into the living room. Peter and Bear have moved onto once again arguing about music; Peter’s on Blur’s side, Bear’s on Oasis’. 

You give them both a sideways look. “I’m not getting involved in this,” you say, checking to make sure your keys are in your bag. “But I’m just saying, in a real fight, Liam Gallagher would kick Damon Albarn’s ass any day of the week.” Peter grins at you from behind the counter, where he’s attempting to clean the disaster left in the kitchen from dinner last night.

“Oh, my God,” Bear says, looking you up and down. “Why do you look so worked up? Were you guys just fucking? Like right now?”

 Peter can’t turn away fast enough to conceal his snort, and you make a face at her. “It’s called caffeine. Come on, we’ll be late.”

Peter waves at her. “Say hi to Krista.”

“You should come with us, next time you get a night off work,” Bear says, helping herself to a stick of gum from the packet on the bench.

“Bye,” you say, leaning in to wrap your arms around Peter’s waist. “Be careful,” you add quietly, leaning up to kiss him.

He grins. “Always am.” He kisses you back, slow and gentle, before letting you go.

Bear shakes her head. “You guys are so gross. Later, Parker.”

Peter trails you to the door so he can close it behind you. Bear’s a few feet ahead of you, and you don’t mean to linger, but you can’t help but look back one last time as you go.

Peter’s leaning in the door, a dish rag over his shoulder. His hair’s chaotic from where you’d run your fingers through it, and his cheeks are still a little pink with warmth. 

As you watch, his eyes crease at the corners. “Love you,” he mouths, too quiet for Bear to hear. He still has the cutlery in his hands he’d been drying before you walked out; two knives, two forks. 

You can feel your face splitting into a smile you’re sure must be even goofier than his. You hold his gaze, and as Bear drags you away, you’re missing him already.

[bibibbon]

Todoroki Rei doesn't feel like an actual character.

Her children do, Shoto does, Dabi does, Natsuo and Fuyumi do.

However, Rei just doesn't. We learn about how Endeavor DROVE her insane with his abuse, caused what she believed was the death of one of her children, made her grievously injure another, and locked her away from all of her children for a decade.

She should HATE the guy.

Yet when Endeavor sends those stupid manipulative flowers - she sings his praises and defends him to Natsuo. Tell me how that makes sense.

People have suggested Stockholm syndrome or manipulative psychiatry as reasoning for her inane Endeavor simping despite everything. Yet if this is the case, it should be portrayed tragically, like Harley Quinn is - not portrayed "admirably" and like she is "so kind" like some members of the fandom have called her.

There's also everything to do with Dabi, and I thought surely this revelation should stir up Rei's hatred. Yet it doesn't.

She gives Endeavor a stern telling off with the rest of her children in tow (which we were all cheering at because this is the bare fucking minimum. ) The Touya backstory hits (in part from Endeavor's POV because he's so reliable as the abuser and the cause of this mess 😒. Why didn't you let Touya tell his own story, Hori!?) It scapegoats her and Touya largely to take a lot of the heat off of Endeavor. And then... she tells Shoto as the hero of the family to save Touya.

Umm...no. Just no.

Endeavor is the hero parent. This should be his responsibility - but it should never be on Shoto to save the brother who wants him dead.

Then, in the epilogue, we find her being Endeavor's carer, staring up at her dying son, Dabi.

Do we see her talk with her son, Dabi? Do we see her cry at his state here? - Nope, it is all focused on Endeavor and his guilt/ self pity.

All she is allowed to do is pose with a solemn expression behind Endeavor's wheelchair and smile cutely at her abuser when the story demands it.

The injustice at the abuse victim - incarcerated mental patient - carer of her abuser pipeline Rei's story has taken is so disgusting.

I am horrified and appalled under Hori, Rei will never be free of her abuser and neither will the rest of the Todofam (Endeavor paid for thier new house after all - he still has the power over it and them as an extension of that. Abusive bastard.)

All I can think of is how horrible it is to handle an abuse narrative in such a way - uncaring of what real people this hurts.

THIS 👆👆👆

Yes, Rei doesn't truly feel like a real character at all because of the way she is depicted.

Even though all of the todoroki backstories come from either shoto, Touya or enji we still can see and notice the horror of rei's abuse. Even with there being almost litte to no focus on rei we can still how she suffered and get a general view to how she was driven to insanity.

So just imagine if horikoshi actually allowed rei to have her own proper perspective and we see HER STORY FROM HER VIEW! @thr0wnawayy (puts some of it into deeper perspective) imagine how gut wrenching it would of been and tell me that she would somehow be okay with being enji's caretaker in the end like he isn't at fault for what happend to Touya (touya's death is literally stated to be her final straw and that she fully broke down after that). Imagine rei a young women who tried to do everything for her children and failed, she ended up hurting them even though she wanted and tried to do what she can to protect them.

Rei should ultimately despise enji completely heck there is no reason for her to like him or tolerate his existence at all. I wholeheartedly doubt that her relationship with enji can even be good in the slightest and her having Stockholm syndrome or manipulative psychiatry also to me doesn't make sense at all after the guy put her and her children through straight hell. Why is her opinion of enji somehow swayed after flowers? He doesn't do anything except send flowers (and I don't even think he has always done that) it's like she has no one. It's like the narrative is blatantly ignoring fuyumi and natsou who stay with their mother and keep her company. Heck fuyumi and natsou brought their mother clothes but somehow only enji's flowers hold any significance. What about shoto who after everything also started a relationship with his mum?!?!?

Why the actual hell does the narrative frame enji giving rei flowers as somehow more meaningful and symbolic than her children doing the exact same thing and more for her!!!!

How about we talk about how horrible rei's condition must of been if she and the doctor said that she shouldn't see enji even though she hasn't seen the man for a decade?!?!? How about we talk about how Rei literally said that she was scared of seeing enji even though its been 10 years?!?! Why does the narrative seem to ignore this moment and its exactly when this moment is ignored that her making an appearance face to face with enji holding the flowers he gave her in chapter 300 is such an underwhelming scene. I personally felt such mixed emotions with that scene.

This scene and what comes after it all feels weird to me and it fails on so many notes. Rei comes in holding the flowers enji has given her and we are supposed to interpret this as her finally overcoming her fear of enji and stepping up both as a character and parent but it falls apart because

We aren't that emotionally connected to rei (she should of had her individual arc that tied her to the family and allowed us to see her prespective)

We haven't seen the steps that led her to becoming like this

After she doesn't even properly beat or scold enji at all. It all ends up being a pathetic speech where the narrative seems to shun from putting almost majority of the blame on enji and instead she continually says its her fault (the narrative tries to paint it like it's all of her fault when It isn't she is part of the problem but enji never seems to get that much criticism)

All of these reasons are there to show that Rei doesn't feel like an actual character. She starts and ends the same and even when her son, Dabi ends up in the same position as she starts from she doesn't even speak to him in chapter 426. Actually she tries and all she says is that she has a lot to talk to him about but then enji hogs all the screentime and she stands back separated from the conversation.

Rei, unlike her family is also not written in a way to fit the families dynamic. Her character isn't logical in a way where she is supposed to hate enji after all he did. Rei also doesn't have role unlike the other members of the todoroki family.

We clearly see that fuyumi wanted a happy family and tried her best to keep up appearances.

Dabi absolutely despised his family after he learnt about his creation but ultimately even as he tried to run away he still has memories of playing with natsou and even when on the verge of death in the 2nd war arc he instinctively calls out to them.

Natsou is like dabi in hating enji and wanting to run away except he follows and accomplishes this in a different path.

Shoto is completely trapped and is supposed to be the saviour child whether that be for enji wanting him to be his masterpiece or for rei putting the title of family hero onto shoto (which she shouldn't of done at all)

Enji neglected dabi and he is the reason why dabi was made. Rei acknowledges this multiple times that what touya wanted was his father's love and attention and she even goes to blame herself saying that she should of tried harder into convincing enji to talk and spend time with his son (which she already did before but he flat out refused and ignored her)

After this rei also claims that shoto is the families hero and this puts pressure on shoto to save dabi, his brother who wanted to kill him for being enjis favourite ever though he never asked for it and actually ended up suffering for being enjis favourite.

Yes, shoto reaching out to rei was important for both shoto and her. It symbolised shoto starting to heal and reconnect with his mother whom he cared about so much and for rei it was a new hope for her and a new goal to be a good mum to reconnect with her child. However, shoto isn't the families hero. He doesn't need all of the families problems on him and he for sure doesn't need to solve them all especially when enji was the one to cause them specifically the ones to do with dabi.

Ultimately I stand by the choice that enji should of died in the first war arc giving more focus to shoto and the rest of the family members.

Enji would die in the line of duty so you would probably have a lot of people try and excuse his behaviour and this would be a good way to explore how this negatively effects the todoroki family and dabi who grows to have even more resentment and has to learn that shoto's life was full of suffering under being enji's favourite.

Rei should of had an arc that tied her into the jaku hospital arc where she learns about touya and stands up to enji at the same time while coming face to face with a lot of the new information and maybe even learning about genten himura her distant cousin. There is so much that could be done with rei and all we got in Canon was a horrible non existent arc where she is used to prop up her abuser!

In the end enji doesn't face consequences for his actions (being disabled isn't a consequence) and his whole dance in hell with dabi ain't even effective because enji hasn't experienced true hell (not to the extent of dabi). In the end enji still has people and he still has money his hell can be paradise for some people like the villains.

[geordikisser]

hii i love ur isaacwhy fics sm!! ur writing is so good, i love lurking lol. could i req a fic with isaacwhy x reader (gn or fem is ok) and how they would resolve having an argument? maybe they've been ignoring each other for a day or two. just rlly angsty fluffy hurt/comfort goodness. ty!

a/n I LOVE ANGSTT sorry for the delay on content everyone! my wi-fi has been bugging out recently -_-; ..

REQ OPEN

i love you so | issacwhy

epilogue: isaac gets enveloped into his work a lot and doesn’t know how to make for you frequently, due to him being new to dating while in content creation & this has caused problems for you.

content contains! gender neutral usage, angst

♡ you urgently knock on isaac door, calling out his name from behind it. it’s been about 2 days since you last spoke or even seen him out his room. this brewed up frustration in your chest as you feel tears flood your eyes.

restraining, you sigh shakily. knocking once more till you ultimately just barge into his room. grabbing his attention with your big entrance.

he turns to you, his eyes gleaming into yours. as he slips off his headphones, guilt fills his eyes. “hey.” he waves slightly at you. you furrow your brows, infuriated with him. just hey?

“are we ok, isaac.” you ask in a passive aggressive tone, your sass still drowning out your filter you tried desperately to put on.

he looks around in a confused manor before responding. “i’m okay, why?” he misheard you, making you hold back the heat you had sucked into your throat. “we, isaac. not you. but that is a good question to start with!” he now offended by this reaction.

“woah? what happened?” he asked, concerned slightly. “it’s like i don’t even exist to you? i mean— two days, you haven’t left your room, only seeing you when you shower or eat? this isn’t healthy, isaac.” you tried to gently coax him away from his set up before this, went to no avail.

his face of concern, turns to a frown. “babe. imma big boy, i can handle myself. there’s a method to this madness, i don’t need you worrying about me..” he exhales deeply, resting his forearm against his desk. you can tell he’s trying to play this off as a joke.

you mentally note his body language, his leg bouncing, using his empty hand to fidget against his mouse pad..

“look at this, issac! you’re itching to get back to your computer.” you pout slightly. “i understand you are worried, but i’m extremely busy right now. i need to get back to my work.” he tries to lay this gently to you, knowing how you get.

“am i not as important to you as a fucking video with your friends, isaac?” you whimper weakly, your voice feeling hoarse. he pinches the bridge of his nose, getting slightly frustrated. “(y/n).” he states flatly. “don’t make this into what it isn’t— i haven’t spoken to the guys either, anyone! this isn’t about you.” his tone getting harsher the longer he drags it.

as he stands up to meet closer with you, you feel your lip begin to quiver. “that isn’t normal isaac, you know that right?” you shake your head out of disapproval, sadness drowning your tone. it being very evident to isaac.

“i can’t deal with this right now. you are being dramatic.” he groans inwardly, the paranoia of this conversation appearing inevitable yet so happening so soon.

the immediate invalidation that dripped from his tone made your glass fragile heart, shatter within an instance. “i have to finish this, (y/n). you wouldn’t understand. this isn’t about you.” he looks away from you, the back of his neck accompanied by his hand as he scratches his neck.

“when is it about me!” you sob out, your eyes feeling weary. a pang of guilt stabbing his chest. he swallows harshly as you continue. “what about me ,, what about— us, isaac.” you sigh, defeatedly. his eyes leaving your gaze and to the side.

you grip your sides, tightly. feeling the water works brew up and you break down into a fit. “you have 0 idea of how this makes me feel! being second rate to a pc.” you look away, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. your legs feeling weaker suddenly.

“i feel so helpless in this situation. if not me, then what?” you begin to hold your own face to prevent tears, wiping them away slowly. staining your (really isaacs shirt you stole) with your tears.

he feels his lip quiver as he reaches out to you. neglect was a common habit of isaac, commonly to himself not others though.

the dedication he put into his work cause him to inadvertently push you away. “baby—,,” his frown out of guilt instead of annoyance. “i had no intentions to make it turn out like this.”he sighs, exhaling heavily. “c’mere, don’t cry baby.” he coos gently, extending a arm to you. you waste no time latching into his hold.

he grunts as you fall into his chest, the sudden impact taking him aback. he rubs your back, swaying you gently as he slowly meets you two to his bed. your sobs being the only audio in his ears now.

“oh baby,i’m so sorry. i had 0 idea.” he whispers to you in a loving more considerate tone. “y’know. you’re my first real relationship since i got into content creation. this two lives thing is something i gotta get used to.” he admits, swallowing his pride.

you sigh, shakily. “i understand you take pride into content creation and it being your job or whatever.” you say, not disregarding the fact you came after he became a content creator. “but i want to be important to. just as much as recording, streaming, editing. i want to take priority too.” you look up at him from his chest, your hold getting looser as you begin to caress his biceps with your thumb.

he nods, humming in response. he begins to rock back and forth to keep you relax, knowing this is usually what keeps you calm.

“i understand that baby, im sorry.” he coos to you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. “you’re so perfect for me baby. how’d i get so lucky? my sweet baby.” he sighs, kissing your forehead, smothering you in kisses practically.

“i had to kill a man in my last life to get you.” he jokes. you smile softly, leaning into his chest fully. “i love you more than you know. i’ll never take advantage of the fact i have such a loving partner like you. this will never happen again.” he says firmly, his tone making you confident. this truly being a mishap you believe. isaac wasn’t evil, just very misunderstanding to certain situations.